Beginnings
by WhatTheSchmuck
Summary: Two ambitious young women begin their journey into adulthood. Pre-Yamatai.
1. Lara

**Special thanks to my friends at Croft Manor for their creative input and another thanks to Max (Reasons Lost) for beta-reading this for me.**

 **All feedback appreciated!**

 **Update (1/5/2017): The song for this chapter in the Beginnings soundtrack is Square One by Coldplay.**

* * *

The day that Lara had been anticipating since the winter had finally come: move in day, the beginning of the rest of her life as an independent adult. She absentmindedly rubbed the jade magatama hanging around her neck and reflected on the fact that, for the first time in her life, she'd truly be on her own. There would be no more meals prepared for her by hands other than her own. She would be in charge of her own cleaning, mail, groceries… She would no longer be tied to the Manor and the comfortable, albeit dreadfully dull, high-born lifestyle of her family. It was a liberating realization.

"I remember when you found that on one of your father's digs," Roth remarked from the driver's seat of the car they were in while she continued rubbing at the pendant, "you ran up and showed it to me dressed in your penguin pajamas." Lara laughed, and she could hear Roth's laughter mixing with her own.

"I was five years old, it was my first find!" she exclaimed. Within a few moments, their laughs died down and Roth continued.

"It feels like that was just yesterday...now look at you, ready to start college," he smirked slightly, watching the road and seemingly losing himself in his own nostalgia before snapping back to reality, "your parents would have been so proud of you…" Lara pursed her lips and looked out her window while Roth merged onto Euston Road.

"Would they have been, though?" She asked quietly. For years it had been expected that she would attend Oxford or Cambridge-her father's and mother's alma maters, respectively. Or rather, that had been the case until she'd crushed those expectations by applying to University College London instead and refused to so much as accept her college trust fund. She couldn't remember a time when Winston had been as disappointed as he was right there and then.

" _Your mother and father wanted you to receive a top notch education and set aside this money for that exact purpose! This is what Lord and Lady Croft had wanted for you!"_

Oxford or Cambridge was what her parents had wanted for their only child, and she had gone against their wishes. No matter how many times she tried to reassure herself, she couldn't help but feel a sense of guilt over her decision. She was a Croft; there were expectations associated with the name that she had to meet, and she'd failed to do just that.

"Of course they would have," Roth responded, derailing her train of thought. "You're taking your own path, earning your own way, and being true to yourself. That's something they both would have respected." Lara didn't have a response to that, and she need not have one as Roth turned left onto Tavistock Square and came to a stop in front of Connaught Hall, putting the car in park. "Well, here we are: the place where your path begins. I guess we should get you moved in then, eh?" he clapped her on the shoulder and exited the vehicle to start unloading the scant few items she'd packed. On top of opting to forgo the use of her personal trust fund, she had also decided that she was only going to pack the bare essentials and buy the rest of anything she'd need once she found a job in the city. If she was going to earn her way, she was adamant that she was truly going to do so, which meant no cars from the Manor, no electronics besides her phone, no formalwear or high-end garments, and no anything of the like. She was starting almost completely from scratch, something Roth had expressed his utmost approval for, stating that it would help keep her grounded.

She unbuckled her seatbelt and let herself out of the car, walking around back to help Roth unload-not that there was much left to do. With how light she'd packed, they need not even make a second trip out to the car. Pulling her suitcase handle up, she led the way into the building and made a beeline for the desk, where a crowd of other students were checking in. When the crowd had thinned enough, she wriggled her way through the remaining bodies and approached the next available staff member.

"Hello, Lara Croft…?" She winced internally when some of the staff behind the desk gave her the all too familiar quizzical frown at the mention of her name before returning to their work. By that point, she felt like she should have been used to all the sly looks from people too polite to openly stare, or the shameless gawking, but it never seemed to get any easier no matter how much she wished it would. So, all she could do was grin and bear it. Sometimes, if she was lucky, nobody would know who she was and she could go about her business in peace. But such occasions were far and few between, especially when she was still in close proximity to Surrey.

"Croft, eh?" The woman in front of her asked as she thumbed through the book in front of her, "Okay, you're in room two hundred and four. Sign here please, and I'll give you your key." She pointed at a dotted line to indicate where Lara was supposed to sign, and went through a filing cabinet behind her while Lara hastily scribbled her signature. "Alright, let us know if anything is damaged or out of place," she said, handing Lara her key.

"Thank you," Lara replied, making for the elevator with Roth and hitting the button for the second floor once inside. The doors to the elevator slid shut, only to reopen with a _ding!_ A few moments later on Lara's floor. A sign on the wall directly in front of them indicated that room two hundred and four was to the right, and her and Roth followed the arrows, easily finding a door with a brass ' _204'_ on it in due time. She pulled her newly acquired key out of her pocket and inserted it into the lock, letting herself and Roth in.

"No roommate yet," Roth remarked, and Lara noted that the entire room was bare and empty. She put the handle on her suitcase down and set it on top of a bed to claim it as her own while Roth set her other bags on top of the desk at the foot of it. "Well, do you want my help unpacking now or…?" Lara shook her head.

"I can take care of it later after I pick up my books," she said, taking a seat on the edge of her bed.

"Speaking of which, do you have enough money for those?" Roth frowned concernedly.

"Yeah, I managed to save up enough to last while I look for a local job." Not that it was easy to do. When she had attended boarding school, she was prohibited from leaving the premises for longer than an hour. What work she was able to find after she decided that she'd earn her own way at college usually consisted of washing cars or helping to sort mail; it was a small amount of work for a small amount of pay. Saving money became significantly easier once the summer came around and she was free to work several part-time jobs.

"Alright, but if you find yourself struggling too much financially I want you to call me." Lara's only response was a noncommittal shrug while Roth checked his watch, "I have another hour or two before I've got to meet up with Reyes and the rest of the crew. Is there anything else you need? You haven't eaten yet today, have you?"

"Winston tried to get me to but I just wasn't hungry this morning," Lara admitted. She'd been too anxious to get out of the Manor to worry about anything else, and when she thought about it she was a bit peckish. Roth leaned back against her desk and pensively stroked his beard.

"Alright, I think I know a place nearby where we can get something." He pushed himself off the desk and made for the door while Lara trailed close behind, and once she had locked the room up behind them, they went outside together. Lara started making her way over to the car when Roth stopped her, "We're not driving there, it's only a few blocks over and I need to stretch my legs out anyways." She nodded to indicate she heard him, and together they walked side by side in silence, examining their surroundings and taking in the scenery. "It seems like a fairly nice area, you have a few parks around here," Roth observed a few moments later.

"It's all near the archaeology department too," Lara said, pointing out a building to their left.

"So that's what you're officially studying, then?" Roth asked.

"I thought you knew that already?" Lara looked at him and tilted her head to the side.

"I had my hunches, but I didn't want to ask about it and make you feel like that was what you _had_ to study...especially since I know Winston gave you a bit of a hard time over your trust fund and everything else." Lara scrunched her face.

"If I didn't let Winston pressure me into any of that, what makes you think that I would've felt pressured into studying one thing or another? I'm not a child anymore."

"You're right, and I shouldn't treat you like one," he responded calmly, unfazed by her sharp tone and indignant demeanor. Lara sighed and watched a double decker bus drive by to help calm herself.

"Don't get me wrong, I know everybody means well-really, I do…" She began, "it just got old feeling like everybody was making my decisions for me. It just would've been more of the same had I gone to Oxford or Cambridge…"

"Which is why I'm glad you started thinking for yourself. No matter how many times I might compare you to Dick or Amelia, just know that you're not either of them. You're you, and I think spending time away from the Manor and all of those expectations will help give you the time you need to figure out what that means."

"Mmm…" Lara hummed in response as they walked into a retro sandwich shop. They placed their orders at the counter before finding a place to sit by a window, where Lara contented herself with watching people and cars alike drift by slowly.

"So, have you given any thought to what you're going to do besides go to class and work?" Roth asked from across the table, recapturing Lara's attention as she turned her head to face him.

"I've been considering trying out for the gymnastics team," she answered after giving Roth's question some thought.

"What, no boxing?" Roth's tone was joking, but Lara frowned at him with a raised brow all the same.

"Boxing?" She asked in confusion; Roth appeared to be a bit confused himself.

"I never told you?"

"Told me...what?" Lara's befuddlement was steadily mounting higher with every word spoken.

"Well," Roth began, visibly trying to fight back laughter, "back in the day your mother was a boxer of some renown. I think she started some time after she graduated from Cambridge." Lara brows knitted together skeptically.

"Bullshit," she blurted out, and Roth chuckled.

"It's true! If there was somebody who didn't mind getting her hands dirty, it was Amelia. She did a few public fights in a women's boxing circle in Scotland-had a pretty solid record, too. This was all before she met your father, of course." Both of Lara's eyebrows were halfway up her forehead by then.

"Wait, you're actually bloody serious?"

"Absolutely," Roth said earnestly, "that's how she met Grim, too, come to think of it. She was in some bar in Glasgow after a match, and Grim got on her bad side. So Amelia, being the fighter she was, went right up to Grim and…" he tapped his fist on his cheek, "socked him right across the face. They became close drinking buddies after that…" he shook his head, "I'll never understand the Scottish."

"So, why did she stop then?" Lara asked as somebody set their food down in front of them, "You always told me stories about the expeditions you went on with her and dad." Roth took a bite out of his sandwich before answering.

"She stopped after getting a pretty nasty concussion to avoid any long-term complications. She really valued her wits, which is something else you two have in common besides your looks." Lara chewed on her sandwich thoughtfully.

"And how did her and dad meet?"

"Well since she'd officially retired from boxing, she did what anyone else would have done and went to Oxford to get a PhD," Roth said casually, "she met your father in the library there."

"I can't help but feel like there's more to it than just 'and then they lived happily ever after'..." Lara remarked dryly, taking a sip of her water.

"Damn right there is. There was no way the great Amelia DeMornay would take just any man. She ended up agreeing to a date in the end, though."

"Probably took a while for that to happen," Lara observed.

"About three months, in fact. Richard was a persistent fellow." Lara smiled softly at the image that came to mind of her father literally chasing her mother.

"I know what you said about being my own person, but it sounds like my mother was quite the character. If there's one person that I want to be like someday, it'd have to be her."

"Your mother was a good person," Roth agreed, "both your parents were. They also cared about you more than anything else; the happiest I ever saw the two of them was the day you were born." Lara stared down at her half eaten sandwich.

"What were your parents like, Roth?" The question appeared to catch him off guard, and it was a moment or two before he responded.

"Dad was a drunk. Didn't get to know him until I was twelve and he cleaned himself up. Before that, it was just my mum that raised me. They were both good people, just had to overcome a lot of hardship was all." He observed Lara curiously for a few moments, "Why the sudden curiosity?"

"Just curious is all…" Lara murmured while Roth considered her thoughtfully.

"My father might not have been very present, but he did care about me just like yours cared about you...even if he wasn't the best at showing it."

"That's an understatement." Lara scowled, "You know the one thing I remember about dad clear as day? I remember that he was always busy with his work." Roth sighed.

"Things were...complicated for him towards the end. Someday, I think you might understand." The rest of their meal was finished in silence, and after paying they walked back to Connaught Hall, coming to a stop in front of the lobby doors. Lara turned to Roth to exchange a final farewell, but the latter beat her to it. "Alright, this is it, then. Study hard, I'll try to visit when my schedule allows it," Lara nodded, and they embraced, "make me proud, girl. I'll see you soon," he patted her on the back, breaking the embrace. Then, he turned on the spot and walked across the street to his car, and Lara slowly raised her arm to wave and gave him a halfhearted smile. As he opened his door to get into his car, he saw her, grinned, and gave one final wave in return before getting in, pulling out, and driving down the street. Lara watched him go all the while until his car finally disappeared from view around the corner, and she was completely alone.

* * *

 **You can find me under these usernames/handles on the following sites:**

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 **Twitter: LexCroftManor**

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	2. Sam

**Special thanks to my friends at Croft Manor for their creative input and another thanks to Max (Reasons Lost) for beta-reading this for me.**

 **All feedback appreciated!**

 **Update (1/5/2017): The song for this chapter in the Beginnings soundtrack is Cigarette Daydreams by Cage The Elephant.**

* * *

No matter how many times Sam told herself things could be worse, it just didn't feel that way. There was a point in time where she'd been excited to go to college, but that was all before she had broken up with Jess. She sighed as she flipped through the photos on her smartphone; photos of her and the brunette at the Firefly Festival, exploring New York City, enjoying a quiet night together on the couch with some popcorn and a movie… Then she hit the delete button on every single photo, reminding herself that keeping them would only make things worse. When she had finished purging her library of the painful memories, she locked her phone and turned her head to look out the window at the fluffy clouds that surrounded her plane on all sides.

Despite her best efforts to keep herself distracted, her thoughts inevitably returned to Jess. They had dated for an entire year before breaking up; it was the longest relationship Sam ever had. Unfortunately, having an entire ocean between them for the next four years had its way of complicating matters. While Jess had decided to stay back home and study at Temple University, Sam had accepted her admission to University College London. A week before Sam's scheduled departure, they mutually decided that it would be better to end their relationship on good terms sooner rather than have things turn sour later. Not that doing so made it sting any less. At that moment, the pilot's voice came through the intercom and interrupted her thoughts before she could further dwell on any of it.

"Attention passengers, we are preparing for landing at this time so please stow away any electronics, put your trays up, and return your seats to the upright position. Thank you." Sam sighed once more, pocketed her phone, and returned to her window-gazing while the plane slowly began its descent.

* * *

Half an hour later, she was exiting the plane and making her way through the jet bridge to the airport. Switching her phone's airplane mode off, she checked her messages with the hope that Jess had texted her during her flight before it all came crashing back into her with the force of a freight train. Shaking her head dejectedly as she quickly closed out her messages, she instead pulled up her keypad and dialed her father's number. Several rings later, she was greeted by his Japanese voicemail coming through the speaker.

" _This is Hisao Nishimura, if this is important business leave a message after the tone."_ Sam scowled as the same voicemail played in English.

"Hi _dad_ ," she began after the beep, "just your _daughter_ calling to let you know she landed safely. Call me when you have the time." She tapped the end button and dialed her mother's number next, following the signs to baggage claim as she waited for an answer.

"Samantha!" came her mother's greeting.

"Hi mom," Sam said in her most cheerful voice, "I just landed in London and I'm going to baggage claim now."

"Glad to hear it! Listen honey, I'm in the middle of work right now so can you call me back when I'm off?" Sam's stomach sank.

"That's…" her voice trailed off. By the time her mom got off work it would be past midnight in London, and Sam would more than likely be asleep by then, "yeah, sure...okay," was what she settled on. If her mom couldn't remember that she was in a time zone five hours ahead of home, she wasn't going to remember to answer later. Sam knew her well enough to know that. After exchanging a quick goodbye, she hung up and phoned the cab company while stopping in front of a conveyor belt in baggage claim.

"London Taxi Company," came a man's cockney brogue, "how may I help you?"

"Hi, I need a cab from London Heathrow to Connaught Hall on Tavistock Square," Sam said as a red light flashed above the conveyor belt to signal that bags were being unloaded.

"What terminal?" the man asked.

"Five," Sam responded, watching the bags that were starting to cycle through on the conveyor belt closely in case hers came out.

"Alright, we have a driver in the area who will be there to pick you up shortly."

"Thank you," Sam responded, hanging up just as she spotted her black suitcase with a Cassie Hack sticker by the handle on the conveyor. She grabbed it, pulled the handle up, and rolled it behind her as she went outside to wait for her cab. Ten minutes later, she saw one pull up and went to the driver's window.

"Heathrow to Tavistock Square?" the driver, a man in his thirties, asked her. She nodded, and he got out of the car.

"Thanks," she said when he loaded her bags into the trunk for her. Then, they both entered the vehicle and were on their way. As they drove, Sam leaned back in her seat and began going through her Facebook feed on her phone. When she saw pictures that Jess had uploaded from Temple, she quickly closed the app and pocketed her phone a bit more roughly than usual. Her eyes drifted downward and she let out a small breath before contenting herself with looking out the window for entertainment.

"Judging by your accent, you're American. Where you from, miss?" the man asked. Sam gratefully snagged the opportunity to distract herself from her misery.

"I've lived all over but my family currently lives in New York City. We've lived there for about two years now." In the past she'd lived in Chicago, Miami, And Los Angeles-any place that her mom could find modeling work, they went there. Her dad, the head of an international media company, could conduct his business no matter where they went so the constant traveling was a non-issue. Of the three cities they lived in, Chicago had been Sam's least favorite; the winters were too harsh, and crime was too rampant. It was there that her family lived prior to coming to New York City.

"Really? Nice city, I've been there a few times. I got to see Wicked on Broadway once," the man merged onto a highway while he spoke.

"I've never actually had a chance to see a Broadway show myself," Sam said, watching farmlands and towns alike drift by.

"That's a right shame...well worth it in my opinion," he slowed down to let a car get in the lane in front of him, "So what brings you to London? Ever been?"

"No, actually," Sam turned her head to face the man through the rearview mirror, "this is my first time in England, I'm here to study at UCL. Ever heard of it?"

"Absolutely, it's a damn good school. What are you planning to study?" Sam smiled slightly.

"Film. I wanna be a director someday, you see."

"That right? Why pick UCL then if you don't mind me asking?" Sam pursed her lips and quickly thought of a reply.

"Like you said, it's a good school." In truth, her father was convinced that she was studying business so that she could take over Nishimura Corporation one day. The problem was that Sam had always been terrible at economics in high school; there was no way she would be able to survive as a business major. She had tried to discuss different options with him in the past, but he had refused to even entertain other ideas.

" _I spent years building this company up, and I'd sooner die than watch it crumble under the leadership of some witless stranger!"_

So, she applied to the UCL School of Management to appease him, but predetermined that once she got to campus she'd switch to the Slade School of Fine Art. It felt dirty lying to her father, but pursuing her passion was a much better alternative to a life of misery.

"Fair enough. Anything you want to focus on in particular with that degree?"

"I'm planning to specialize in documentary filmmaking and cinematography, actually. I like travelling and I always enjoyed seeing the different historical sites."

"Well, we've got plenty of those here in England I can tell you that much. Historical sites, I mean," the man got on an exit before continuing, "I'm only asking these questions because my friend's father is actually a professor in the Slade School." Sam couldn't stop her jaw from dropping.

"Really?" _Talk about coincidence,_ she thought.

"Dead serious, he teaches a film editing course that receives generally positive feedback." Sam took a moment to think back on what courses she had registered for.

"I think I might have actually signed up for that course but I'm not sure..."

"You should sign up if you haven't already. I wasn't kidding about the feedback; people really enjoy the course." Sam smiled.

"I'll keep that in mind when I have the time to check my schedule tonight. Thanks!"

"Anytime...well, here we are, Tavistock Square. Connaught Hall is directly across the street." He got out to retrieve Sam's bags from the trunk. Once she had her bags, she paid him and gave him a generous tip. Then, she took a deep breath and crossed the street with her bags rolling behind her. When she entered the lobby, she saw a desk with several staff members behind it and she approached one of them.

"Hi! Sam Nishimura?" the woman scrutinized her with narrow eyes while fumbling around for her glasses.

"You wouldn't happen to be the same Nishimura as the owner of Nishimura Corporation?" Sam scratched the back of her neck and shifted her feet uncomfortably.

"Yup...that's my dad…" the woman only nodded in response and flipped through her logbook once she had her glasses on.

"Okay Ms. Nishimura, you're in room two hundred and four. It looks like your roommate already checked in. If you could just sign here..." she pointed at a dotted line below where her presumed roommate had already signed, "...I'll get your key from the cabinet." While Sam signed into the book, the woman went through a filing cabinet behind her and had Sam's key ready by the time she had finished. "Let us know if anything is damaged or out of place." Sam thanked her, and one elevator ride and short walk later, she was in front of room two hundred and four. She opened the door with her key and found that her roommate had, in fact, checked in but apparently not had the time to unpack.

 _Not that there's much to unpack…_ she noted. Her roommate had to either be less fortunate or an international student like herself. Sam supposed that she'd just have to wait and find out later on when they returned and began unpacking. At some point that day, she told herself, she'd have to pick up bedding, decorations, and other essentials as well. After all, London was going to be her home for the next three to four years. She might as well make it feel like it.

* * *

 **You can find me under these usernames/handles on the following sites:**

 **Tumblr: LexCroftManor**

 **Twitter: LexCroftManor**

 **AO3: WhatTheSchmuck**


	3. Initiation

**Special thanks to my friends at Croft Manor for their creative input and another thanks to Max (Reasons Lost) for beta-reading this for me.**

 **All feedback appreciated!**

 **Update (1/5/2017): the song for this chapter in the Beginnings soundtrack is Pork And Beans by Weezer.**

* * *

A week into the first term, Lara still hadn't met her roommate. She knew she had one considering the other half of the room showed obvious signs of habitation and periodic visits. New decorations were hung up, rubbish was added to the wastebasket, and dirty laundry was put in the hamper. It just seemed that the times they were in the room didn't overlap, which wasn't too strange considering Lara's hectic schedule. What _was_ strange was the fact that Lara's ever elusive roommate never seemed to so much as sleep in the dorm. Her bed was still as neatly made as the day the bedding was first put there.

But Lara didn't have time to dwell on any of that; gymnastics hell week had arrived. Gathered together in the indoor facility that they would be practicing in, Lara and the rest of the gymnasts waited for the coach to come in to begin practice. What they got instead was the three captains walking into the building with a clear air of authority before coming to a stop and standing before the rest of the team.

"Alright ladies!" said the red-haired captain in the middle whose name Lara was sure was Catherine, "The coach is out sick so she put the captains in charge for today's practice. Before we start...Brittany? You wanna take it from here?" She turned her head to the blonde on her left.

"Sure," said Brittany, rubbing her hands together and turning to face the team, "as a lot of you veterans know, this week is hell week. This is where we really get to see what you're made of and if you're able to compete at this level. While these aren't necessarily trials, this will help coaches and captains determine who should compete and who should be a substitute in the event of injury," she turned her head to look at Catherine, "Cat, wanna fill them in on the rest?"

"Of course," Catherine said, turning her head back towards the crowd, "while this week marks hell week for all UCL gymnasts, it's also initiation week for first year students-" Lara raised a brow in confusion and looked at the people around her to see if anybody shared her perplexion.

"Hang on, initiation?" asked a gymnast who Lara didn't know by name. Catherine cleared her throat.

"Yes, initiation. Everybody on this team had to go through it their first year as well, it's a ritual that dates back to the founding of gymnastics at UCL. It not only brings us together and strengthens us as a team in whole, it also helps to instill a sense of respect for-"

"So, you're hazing us is what you're saying?" an American student interjected. Catherine's jaw set for a moment before she regained her composure.

"No, we're not hazing you. We're not forcing you to do anything-"

"So if you're not forcing us to do it, why shouldn't we refuse to participate in this initiation?" Lara asked, crossing her arms over her chest. _If looks could kill…_ she thought when Catherine shot a glare at her.

"You're more than welcome to refuse," said the third captain before Catherine could fire off a response, "but don't expect people who went through initiation-whether it's first year students or returning members of the team-to respect you for bailing out. Everybody here who's returning has gone through the same thing that you will. Everybody." Lara frowned and said nothing. She didn't like the way any of it was sounding, but she figured it couldn't be too bad if everyone else had to go through it. Besides which point, pride dictated that she tough it out instead of being the only one to quit.

"Yes, thank you Paige. Now, if there aren't any more questions…" Catherine's voice trailed off as her eyes drifted back and forth across the crowd, "good. Before we begin practice, it's time for the first part of initiation. First years, drop and give us push-ups. Everybody else, warm-up, stretch, and do your basic steps for your respective events." Everybody but Lara, the captains, and four other first year students dispersed to do as instructed, and there was an awkward pause where they just stood there, "what are you waiting for?"

"Er...how many push-ups are we supposed to do?" the American gymnast asked. Catherine eyed her suspiciously.

"What's your name?" Catherine asked.

"...Lexie," the American responded.

"Well, Lexie, you're going to do push-ups until we tell you to stop. And if you slow down or collapse, you're going to run laps around this track. Understood?"

"No," Lara blurted out. Catherine looked like she had just been slapped across the face.

"Excuse me?" she asked with a hint of indignation.

"No, it's not understood. Why do we have to do this while you get to just stand there and do nothing the entire practice?" a complete hush fell over the group, and all heads turned to Catherine, who looked uncharacteristically calm.

"Look, I don't know who you are, but-"

"Lara. My name's Lara," Lara said, drawing herself to full height and looking Catherine dead in the eye.

"Right. Well, in case you forgot we already had to go through all of this our first year. Now I don't know how your posh parents raised you-" Lara bristled in anger.

"What?" she asked in a dangerously quiet voice.

"Your accent. You're posh and we know it. Now I don't know how much you were pampered back in your fancy little home but in the real world respect is earned, not given, and we've done our part to earn respect on this team. Now it's your turn to do your part, so what's it going to be? Are you going to prove you belong here or are you just going to walk away?" Lara remained unmoved and continued to stare daggers into Catherine.

"You don't know anything about me," Lara shot back.

"Prove me wrong, then. Prove to me that you aren't some pampered posh schoolgirl." Lara clenched her fists and thought about how good it would feel to slap the smug expression off of Catherine's face before unclenching them and dropping down to the ground. "Good," Catherine said as Lara began pumping push-ups out at a steady pace. She was determined to prove to Catherine that she could take anything thrown at her, no matter how much it hurt.

Ten push-ups, twenty, thirty...she soon lost count and kept going to the steady beat of her heart and the roar of blood in her ears. She kept going even when her arms began to grow fatigued and she could distinctly hear the first years beside her dropping one by one. Then, she kept going some more until her arms finally gave out from underneath her and she was left sprawled on the ground and panting for breath. Two feet came to a stop in front of her face and her eyes drifted up to see Catherine silhouetted by the lights hanging overhead.

"Start running," she said impassively. Lara gritted her teeth and pushed herself up onto her feet with no small amount of difficulty. How was she supposed to run and handle an entire practice thereafter?

 _Maybe,_ she thought, _that's the entire point._ Maybe they weren't supposed to be able to handle a practice, maybe it was the captains' way of securing their competition slots and slating the first years as substitutes. Not that Lara was going to let that happen. "No," she said firmly. Catherine blinked and took a step towards Lara.

"Didn't you hear me? I said start running." Lara stood her ground and looked at Catherine unblinkingly.

"And I said no. I'm not doing it." Catherine's face began to grow red with anger, and Lara found the sight of that combined with her red hair to be amusing.

"Seriously? Do we need to remind you that-"

"You want to instill a sense of respect in the first years? I'm going to give you a chance to do so." Catherine crossed her arms and scowled.

"And what chance is that, schoolgirl?" Lara also crossed her arms and shifted all her weight to one leg.

"Back-to-back tumbling. Let everybody judge who's the better gymnast. If I win, you stop with this ridiculousness. If you win, I'll participate in initiation without any further complaint," Catherine opened her mouth to respond but Lara stopped her, "before you respond, I also want to say that everyone's watching right now. So think before you answer." Catherine looked around to see that everybody in the building had stopped what they were doing in favor of watching the confrontation between her and Lara. Even the first years had stopped running, and Brittany and Paige were too busy watching the drama unfold to tell them to start going again. Catherine chewed on the inside of her mouth for a moment before turning back to Lara with a look of intense dislike on her face.

"If I win, you'll stop trying to prove a point?" Lara nodded and stuck a hand out. Catherine stared at it before giving it a quick shake and turning to the rest of the team, "Alright, ladies! Bring it in for a moment!" After a moment's hesitation, the rest of the gymnasts slowly sauntered over to where Lara and Catherine were. Once they were all gathered around, the latter began to speak, "Now that we're all here...the reason we called you over is because we're going to have a back-to-back tumbling contest, and you're going to be the judges of it."

"Why?" piped up one of the gymnasts who wasn't a first year.

"Because schoolgirl here-" Lara gritted her teeth at the use of the nickname, "-believes that first years shouldn't have to do initiation. If she wins, nobody has to go through it. If I win, she has to do initiation without complaint. Make sense?" The gymnasts nodded, "Good. We'll be doing this on the floor apparatus, corner to corner. You know how it works. I'll be going first." With that, she strode over to the floor with her head held high and her shoulders back. Lara had to resist the urge to roll her eyes before turning and following her with the rest of the team. While they gathered around the apparatus, Catherine took the time to stretch herself out in the corner and gather her bearings. When she appeared to be ready, she took a deep breath, ran a few steps, sprung into a roundoff followed by a back handspring, and then she was off. She executed flip after flip, and Lara had to admit that she was good but just that. Catherine's movements weren't as quick and fluid as some of the gymnasts Lara had competed against in the past. When she had finished her first tumbling pass and began her second, Lara knew she had the contest in the bag and began stretching herself out.

Finishing with a salto, Catherine stuck her landing and held her arms high over her head. A few gymnasts clapped for her, but everybody else's eyes were already on Lara as she moved to take her spot in the corner of the floor. "Good luck," Catherine spat as she dismounted past Lara, making a point to hit her on the shoulder with her own as she walked by.

Lara stared after her for a moment, but decided that the rude gesture wasn't worth losing her focus over. She shook her arms out to further loosen them in preparation for her back-to-back tumbling run, and she had to admit that after all of those push-ups they were rather quaky and fatigued. Just raising them over her head was a bit difficult to manage, but she told herself that she had climbed _mountains_ before. She would manage. After giving her arms another quick stretch, she took a deep breath and focused on nothing else but the floor and her steps. Then she started running.

She planted her hands on the ground to do a roundoff, but rather than being loose and slow like Catherine had been, she made sure to keep her body tight and snap her hips over and down more quickly to help increase her momentum. The moment she landed she left the floor once more and transitioned into a back handspring. The key for her was quickness. Lara wasn't built as petite as most gymnasts, including Catherine, but she compensated for that by being quicker and building up more energy for her jumps as a result. She was also more precise with her hand and foot placement, allowing herself little margin for error.

Staying light on her feet was also key. As soon as her feet hit the ground, she left it again, using all of the energy she had built up to quickly fly across the floor and back. Her movements were so quick that she soon felt weightless and detached from her surroundings. Her feet landed as she approached the end of her routine and she launched herself up into a somersault with all the force she could muster. The moment she was airborne, she tucked her arms into her torso and straightened her entire body to twist her body mid-air for three full rotations. Her feet came back down over her head, and she stuck the landing, making sure to glance over at Catherine's face the moment she had. The expression on the captain's face told Lara all she needed to know-she had won and they both knew it. Suppressing the urge to grin, Lara raised her hands over her head and walked off the floor to catch her breath and stand beside Catherine to await the team's judgement.

"...Alright," Catherine began, "I guess we'll do this by raising hands. If you think I won, raise 'em." Only the other two captains raised their hands at first, and Catherine narrowed her eyes. "Really?" She asked in a dangerous tone. Several gymnasts exchanged looks with each other before slowly raising their hands as well. Lara's stomach sank as she watched the rest of the team slowly, and hesitantly, lift their hands in the air with the first year gymnasts being the last ones to do so, "Well, I think that settles it then-"

"Are you kidding me right now?" Lara asked turning to face Catherine, who only smiled.

"Face it, schoolgirl. You lost fair and square-" Lara couldn't help it; she laughed.

"You and I both know that's not true. I saw the look on your face when I finished; we both know who the better gymnast is and it's not you."

"The team begs to differ," Catherine said flatly.

"Only because for some reason they're afraid of you and the other captains. But I'm not afraid, Catherine. In fact, I'd venture a guess and say that _you_ are actually afraid of _me_." If Catherine could look any angrier, Lara figured her fiery red hair would be set ablaze. She had definitely struck a nerve.

"The team voted, you lost. It's plain and simple. Now start running." Lara shook her head.

"No. Once the coach comes back, you're done. I'm not going to take this. I'll be seeing you tomorrow." With that, she turned on the spot and walked over to the door into the locker room.

"Good luck trying to get the captains to support you competing!" Catherine shouted after her.

"Good luck explaining to the coach why you don't think I should compete!" Lara shot back, pushing the door to the locker room open and slamming it behind her, "Bullshit…" she grumbled as she opened her locker and pulled her bag out. As she rifled through it for her quarter zip, she heard the door open and she looked up to see Lexie walking in.

"Wait," she said. Lara found her jacket and slid it over her head.

"Why?" she asked, slinging her duffel over one shoulder. Lexie sighed.

"Catherine's a bitch," Lexie began, "but you can't just-"

"Can't just what? I'm not going to stand there and take anything else from that cow." Lexie held her hands up placatingly.

"I know, but I've talked to some of the older girls. You don't know what Catherine will do to get what she wants, but I do." Lara held the bridge of her nose between her thumb and index finger.

"I said it out there and I'll say it again, I'm not afraid of her, and you shouldn't be either. She's just a self-righteous girl who's scared of losing her competition slot because she's not good enough to actually earn it honestly. I don't even _know_ how she was made a captain," Lexie bit her lip pensively, and Lara took a deep breath, "Look, I'm in the Archaeology program and when you've had to read as many books as I have, you notice a pattern. A tyrant only has power when his or her subjects fear them enough to continue following them. If you all refuse to participate in initiation, what's Catherine going to do? She can't kick you off the team because she's not the coach. And if the other girls had enough decency to warn you about her, I doubt they're afraid of her and will do anything terrible either. So tell me, what do you think she's going to do?"

"Well, when you put it that way…" Lexie responded slowly.

"Listen, I appreciate the concern but don't worry. I've dealt with people worse than Catherine before. If I were you, I'd worry more about the other gymnasts in our year who won't stand up to that bint. Here," Lara fished her phone out of her pocket, unlocked it, and handed it to Lexie, "put your number in that if you want to, and I'll text you so you have my number as well. If Catherine tries to go after you or anyone else, tell me. After today, I'm not letting her get away with anything else." Lexie nodded, and entered her phone number in before handing Lara's phone back to her.

"I'm guessing you're leaving now, then?" She asked. Lara nodded.

"Yeah, I've had enough for the day. You should probably get back to practice before Catherine makes you do iron crosses or something," Lexie winced and shuddered.

"Yeah, good point. I guess I'll see you tomorrow...Lara, wasn't it?"

"Yeah," Lara said, stowing her phone away in her bag as they walked out of the locker room together, "and yes, tomorrow. Good luck with the rest of practice." Lara turned for the exit while Lexie returned to the area where the gymnasts were now conducting practice as normal, with the exception of the first year students running around the track once more. Lara watched as Lexie joined the groups of runners and, with her jaw clenched, pushed the exit door open and left the building.

* * *

 **You can find me under these usernames/handles on the following sites:**

 **Tumblr: LexCroftManor**

 **Twitter: LexCroftManor**

 **AO3: WhatTheSchmuck**


	4. New Beginnings

**I'm back! I told you guys I wasn't giving up on the fandom and I never will. Here's to more submissions in the future!**

 **Special thanks to my friends at Croft Manor for their creative input and another thanks to Max (Reasons Lost) for beta-reading this for me.**

 **All feedback appreciated!**

 **Update (1/5/2017): the song for this chapter in the Beginnings soundtrack is Helena Beat by Foster The People.**

* * *

Hangovers, with their ability to bring someone crashing back down to Earth in a fiery blaze after flying high the entire night, were the bane of every college student's existence. Practically sweating alcohol as she groaned out her regrets from the night before, Sam once again swore that she'd never drink again. Slowly, she opened her eyes to find that she had passed out in the bathtub.

By that point waking up in a strange location the morning after was starting to become a very familiar occurrence. Every night since she had arrived at UCL things happened over the same sequence of events: she'd go to classes-with the exception of the one or two she had missed-before heading straight to the apartment of a friend she had made the first day named Molly. From there Sam would down shots in quick succession with Molly and some other girls and then lose track of what happened the rest of the night. She would almost always wake up someplace strange with no recollection of how she got there.

She groaned and held her face in her hands when her head began throbbing with increasing intensity. _Mom was right, fuck tequila…_ she thought to herself. She'd gone partying before during her high school years, without the knowledge of either of her parents, of course. But for all the parties she went to, she had never gotten hangovers as nasty as had perpetually plagued her since she'd gotten to college. When she wondered what had changed, her phone decided to remind her as its text tone went off. Wincing at the way the sharp noise reverberated through her head, Sam pulled her phone out of her pocket and, squinting against the light her home screen emitted, checked to see who had messaged her. Her stomach sank when she saw that it was Jess. "Shit…" she muttered under her breath, unlocking her phone to read it.

 _Is everything alright? I just saw your texts from last night._ Had she texted Jess while drunk? With a newfound sense of panic rising in her chest, she scrolled up the screen to see that she had indeed done so. Things like "I can't do this," and "it hurts too much," flooded the chat history and the more Sam read, the more horrified she became. Locking her phone, she slung an arm over her eyes and hissed out an assortment of choice profanity.

 _So much for not being the annoying ex…_ she thought to herself. She missed Jess, and she'd be lying if she tried to tell herself otherwise, but they had promised to give each other space for the time being. Only now she had gone and broken that promise with no clue how she could dismiss her drunken antics as nothing serious. Deciding that she'd figure out how to respond to Jess later, she removed her arm, wincing at how comparably bright the bathroom was to the insides of her eyelids. She lit up her phone's home screen to check the time since she had forgotten to the first time she looked at it, and her eyes widened when she saw that it was nine thirty in the morning. "Fuck!" She blurted out, doing no favors for her throbbing headache, and scrambled clumsily out of the bathtub. She had already missed the first lecture of her literature class that week, and if she didn't get moving she'd miss another one as well.

She stood up and scrutinized her appearance in the bathroom mirror to see if she was presentable enough to be seen in a public area. After straightening her shirt and brushing some stray hair from the shaved side of her head to the other, she gave an approving nod to the mirror and stumbled out into the living room to search for her belongings. She found her shoes by the door, at least. Her bag was nowhere to be found and she racked her brain trying to remember where she'd left it as she bumbled around the apartment, over bodies, and around empty bottles. She ducked under the kitchen table to check there, but was greeted by someone's sneakily hidden vomit heap, instead. Disgusted, she backed away, hitting her head on the underside of the table as she went and ringing it like a bell. That was when, in a haze of pain and dizziness, she spotted her bag on top of the table. She snagged her bag, and a pair of sunglasses from the face of one of the passed out bodies, headed for the door, and made her way out of the building.

The moment she exited the complex, the sounds of the busy London streets hit her like a train and sent her into a fit of vertigo-induced nausea. She had definitely overdone it the night before. Swallowing thickly to keep anything from coming up, she made her way down the street to campus as quickly as she could manage without keeling over in sickness.

While she walked, her thoughts sluggishly drifted back to Jess and how she was going to explain her texts from the night before. No matter what angle she approached the situation from, she couldn't come up with a good excuse for her behavior. She considered just letting the matter drop and not responding to Jess before promptly discarding the idea. Doing so would only serve to further worry her.

Lost in her thoughts as she was, she looked to the left rather than the right when she reached the intersection where she needed to cross. She jumped back onto the sidewalk and nearly lost the contents of her stomach when a car swerved past, honking its horn. Her hand flew up and she put her first two fingers on display for the driver; she had at least mastered British vulgarity, even if she had not adjusted to traffic flowing in the opposite direction she was used to. When her heart had stopped racing, she attempted to brave the intersection once more after ascertaining that no cars were coming. She crossed the street without further incident to reach the outskirts of campus and spotted the building where her class was held not too far away.

She approached it, checking the time on her phone as she did so to see, with a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach, that she was ten minutes late. She frantically yanked one of the doors open to let herself into the lobby area before stopping dead in her tracks with the realization that she didn't know what room her class was in, much less where that room was. Doing her best to not give in to panic, she pulled her class schedule up on her phone to see that she was in room one hundred and thirteen and, after pocketing it, looked around to see if there were any signs on the walls to direct her to where it was. She soon found one hanging overhead, and went down the hallway to her left to her class's alleged location. Sure enough, there was a class in session when she peeked into the correct room. Bracing herself for the immense amount of embarrassment that was likely about to ensue, she put her hand on the door handle and turned it downward to let herself in.

The professor, a middle aged man with black hair specked with silver, mercifully payed her no mind when she entered. Perhaps it was because he didn't see the use in taking time out of class to grill students for being late, or maybe he felt that students who made a habit of missing class or arriving late weren't worth the effort of giving attention to. Most likely, however, the reason he didn't acknowledge her was because he was in the middle of lecturing. Not wanting to push her luck and give him a reason to stop class, she hurried to the back of the room where she could remain inconspicuous and suffer in hungover silence. It wasn't until she took a seat and noticed a few people giving her strange looks that she realized she still had sunglasses on, and quickly took them off. Despite how much her head was pounding just then with nothing to protect her eyes from the intense lights hanging overhead, she pulled her notebook out and tried to key into what the professor was saying.

"Now then," he said, clearing his throat, "now that we've finished going over skills and techniques for effective essay writing, it's time that we got into actual literature…" his gaze slowly drifted back and forth across the room from beneath his glasses. "But before we do, I feel compelled to ask this since there's always a few international students…" Sam clicked her pen to keep herself entertained and distracted from her increasingly vicious hangover, "anyways, who here has no experience with reading Shakespeare's work?"

Sam looked up from her pen-clicking to see that five students had their hands up before returning her gaze back down to her desk. "Not to worry," the professor said, "I will be available to provide assistance to those who need it. The main thing you need to keep in mind is that learning Early Modern English and how it is structured is the key to understanding Shakespeare's work." He clapped his hands together, causing Sam to jump and wince at the same time while her head gave a particularly nasty throb, and rubbed them against each other before continuing, "Alright! That being said, our first reading will be Macbeth, which you can all get a copy of at the end of the lecture when I set the box out."

Sam had to resist the urge to groan at this. She had read Shakespeare before, sure, but she had read the No Fear Shakespeare versions of the plays her teachers did in high school instead of the real things, and something told her that she wouldn't be able to get away with that in college. The professor approached the whiteboard and picked up a marker. "Speaking of understanding Shakespeare's work...something else that I've found to be helpful with regards to reading comprehension in my experience is examining the context of the text. _Who_ was the author of the text? _What_ was happening when it was written? _When_ were these things happening? _Where_ were they happening? _Why_ are things happening? Who, what, when, where, and why. Sound familiar? These are the questions you need to be asking yourself whenever you go to read a text. So, I'm going to take the time to examine the context of Macbeth with you, and then you're on your own for the rest of the course. My goal here is not to give you answers, but rather give you the tools you need to get those answers…"

All around Sam, students were nodding in understanding but all she could understand in that moment was how nauseous she felt. If she could just make it through that lecture, she swore she would never touch tequila again. The professor pulled the cap off of the marker he was holding and wrote _William Shakespeare_ in large letters on the board, "So... _who_ was William Shakespeare. Anyone? Go ahead, Miss." When Sam looked at the person he was pointing to, she did a double-take and felt her jaw drop. Was that…

 _Jess_?

She blinked and quickly realized that the girl in question was not, in fact, Jess. Their hair color and size were pretty much the same, certainly, but outside of that there were very distinct differences between the two. For one thing, the girl that she was looking at was more toned and muscular than Jess, but not in a way that was unattractive. Her eyes were also more sharp and intense than her ex's, and her body more shapely…

Sam felt herself rapidly going red, and she averted her gaze to the professor as he was looking at the girl expectantly. When she began to answer in a posh English accent, Sam felt her cheeks grow only redder.

"He was an English poet, playwright, and actor born to a middle-class glove-maker in Stratford-upon-Avon in 1564. He married Anne Hathaway and had three kids with her before leaving them all behind sometime in the late sixteenth century to travel to London to begin his career in theater. He died in his hometown at the age of fifty-two and is credited by historians as the author of...I believe it was thirty-seven plays?"

 _Great…_ Sam thought to herself, _cute accent, hot… But a fucking know-it-all._ She crossed her arms over her chest and frowned while the professor regarded her with an intrigued expression for a moment or two.

"What's your name, Miss?" The girl shifted in her seat slightly before responding.

"It's...Lara Croft, sir." The professor raised a brow at her and studied her with a new expression on his face that Sam couldn't decipher.

"And what are you studying, Ms. Croft?"

"Archaeology, sir."

"I see, that would explain it. Why haven't I heard from you in class until now?" Lara Croft only answered with a shrug, "Regardless, very well answered. Yes, so that would answer the _who_ , _where_ , and part of the _when_ …" he began writing shorthanded notes on the board while he continued, "So, Macbeth, Shakespeare's bloodiest tragedy, was most likely written in 1606 which gives us the rest of the _when_. Now this time period would have been early in the reign of King James I…"

* * *

Sam couldn't have been happier to leave class. By that point the only thing that she could focus on was how badly she wanted ibuprofen and something greasy to settle her stomach. She pulled her phone up to see if burger places were even a thing in London when it started to ring. She took one glance at the caller ID and immediately groaned in despair when she saw the name _Jessica Burgess_ on the screen. She tapped the still-vibrating phone on her forehead and deliberated over what she should do. She briefly considered not answering before immediately discarding the idea on the grounds that doing so would only serve to further worsen the situation. Instead, she took a deep breath and tapped the green answer button.

"Hello?" She asked in the most calm and collected voice she could muster.

"Sam? Oh thank god…" Sam's stomach sank; Jess's tone was one of pure, undiluted worry, "Are you okay? What's going on? You didn't answer my texts this morning…" Sam held the bridge of her nose between her thumb and index finger. She was in absolutely no condition to be handling a situation like that at that point in time.

"Yeah, no, sorry I'm actually really embarrassed about that and I feel awful for bothering you…"

"Bothering me? Sam, just because we're broken up doesn't mean I suddenly don't care. The only thing bothering me is my concern for your well-being." Sam sighed and began walking while she continued to talk on the phone.

"I was just really drunk last night when I sent those texts and in hindsight it was really stupid of me to drink that much."

"Drunk words are sober thoughts, you know…" The statement caught Sam so off guard that she stopped dead in her tracks. "Do you maybe feel like us being in contact is making things harder for you right now?" Sam took a moment to think.

"I...honestly don't know," she said, resuming her stroll, "I feel like my head's spinning and I can't tell if it's from the hangover or not. London's such a huge city and I feel like the students here are so much smarter than me…" There was a pause. "Jess?"

"I'm still here," she responded, "just thinking is all. Do you remember why you wanted to go to UCL in the first place?"

"New country, new start...away from my family." Sam found one of the campus benches and sat down on it.

"Exactly."

"So…?"

"I think you just feel a bit lost right now because you're finally on your own and you're trying to figure out who you are rather than who your dad wants you to be."

"I can tell that you're about to do that thing where you make some mind-blowing point that completely changes my perception of the world…" Sam remarked.

"Well, yeah, kind of. Think about it. More than anything you want a fresh start away from all the bullshit. You want to have the freedom to assert who you are to the world and own it with a combination of grace, sass, and elegance. The problem is that no matter how badly you may want it, nobody can have a fresh start if they're hung up on the past… I'm just concerned that you're having trouble letting go right now-I mean, I know I am and I'll openly admit it. And that's not a good thing for either of us because it's preventing us from moving forward and bettering ourselves." Sam could feel her heart pounding in her throat; Jess had a valid point and she knew it. She swallowed thickly past the obstruction.

"So...what do you think…?" Her voice trailed off without her finishing the question. She already knew the answer.

"I think that it would be in both of our best interests to distance ourselves for the time being-not forever! Just...until we've both moved on is all. And I know that we said we were going to do that before but this time I'm being serious."

"If you think that's best," was all Sam managed to say through the tightness in her throat.

"I do." There was another pause. "Listen, I have my 8am in an hour or so and I actually went on a run before calling so I have to hop in the shower now…"

"Okay…" Sam heard herself say. Jess took a deep breath.

"I just want you to know that I am sorry though. For everything. Just please know that." There was a click on the other end of the line followed by complete silence.

"Yeah...me too…" Sam said to no one while still holding the phone to her ear, "I'm sorry, too."

* * *

 **You can find me under these usernames/handles on the following sites:**

 **Tumblr: LexCroftManor**

 **Twitter: LexCroftManor**

 **AO3: WhatTheSchmuck**


	5. The Encounter

**This chapter's Mean Girls reference is dedicated to twilightmoon777, who always leaves the best comments on my fics. Four for you Glen Coco, you go Glen Coco!**

 **Special thanks to my friends at Croft Manor for their continued feedback and support, and another thanks to deberzer and burritorat for being awesome betas in Max's (Reasons Lost) absence!**

 **All feedback appreciated!**

 **Update (1/5/2017):** **I've started soundtracking Beginnings and will provide information on how to access the playlist at the end of the chapter. The song for this chapter is The Middle by Jimmy Eat World. I have updated previous chapters and included the chapter songs at the beginning as well.**

* * *

Lara frowned and shrugged her bag up onto her shoulders more securely as she walked out of the library. Her first week of college was almost officially over, and yet she didn't quite know what to make of it. On one hand, her professors were all wonderful people who encouraged her to think outside the box, and they were usually more than happy to take the time to sit down with her after class and answer any questions she had. On the other hand, however…

Would they have set aside as much time for any other student?

It wasn't as if the concern was groundless either. Every single time her identity was made known to her professors, Lara could always detect the subtle shift in their overall demeanors as well as the sudden piquing of their interest in her. In just one moment, she had gone from just another student to a human enigma as they tried to determine if she had any Crazy Croft in her.

She frustratedly rubbed the butt of her palm into her forehead while she made her way to the athletic building for a gymnastics team meeting. _Damn Deranged Dick and his ludicrous theories_ … she thought to herself. She _hated_ the thought of people seeing any bit of him in her; she didn't want to be known as Crazy Ol' Dicky Croft's daughter. That's why she had opted out of Cambridge and Oxford in the first place and taken on such a heavy financial burden-she wanted people to see that she wasn't that type of Croft. She wanted to prove that she was _normal_ and had her head on straight. Just what was it going to take for that to be accomplished?

She shook her head to clear the thoughts from her wandering mind. Her father was unwell, nothing more, and she was very much in good health. If people couldn't see that then that was their problem, not hers. Besides which point, she had more pressing and immediate concerns than the man who had simultaneously besmirched her name and torn her family apart, such as her finances, grades, gymnastics…

"Lara!" came a voice from behind, derailing Lara's train of thought. She stopped walking and looked back to determine its source, immediately spotting Lexie and another first year gymnast whom she didn't know by name, "Going to the meeting as well, I take it?" Lexie asked once she and her companion had caught up to Lara. "By the way, you remember Hannah, right?" She gestured to the other first year gymnast beside her.

"Of course," _...not_ , Lara finished in her head. With how busy and preoccupied she had been she could barely remember what she had for breakfast-or if she even had breakfast at all-let alone the names of everyone she met. "And yeah that's where I'm headed," she added, "though I can't help but feel like it's pointless; how likely is the coach to put first years in competitions?"

"Oh sod off with that!" Hannah began as the three of them started walking to the athletic building together, "I don't know why you of all people are worried, you're definitely better than some of the returning gymnasts. You work a hell of a lot harder too. I feel like we all do."

"I don't know," Lara sighed emphatically, "I just can't shake the feeling that the coach might favor old blood over us is all."

"But you're better than Catherine," Lexie interjected, "you said so directly to her face during the first practice."

"Catherine's a cow," Lara stated bluntly, "but to be fair she's still a decent gymnast."

"Still blows my mind how she's a captain though," Hannah remarked.

"I think we're all scratching our heads over that one," Lara responded dryly.

"Okay but can I be honest about something? At least Paige isn't as bad as Catherine or Brittany. I mean, okay she was pretty bad the first day but she hasn't been actively participating in the initiation process since," Lexie said, swatting a hand at a bug that flew by her face.

"Yeah, but it's not like she's discouraged Catherine and Brittany either…" Hannah shook her head in disgust.

"Not true!" Lexie protested, "She tried to get Catherine to lighten up on us last night, remember?"

"I guess…" Hannah replied unenthusiastically.

"Wait, what happened last night?" Lara asked, raising a curious brow. Lexie and Hannah exchanged a look with each other before Hannah answered.

"The captains...well, okay, Catherine and Brittany mainly, all forced us to participate in a drinking contest last night until there was only one person left standing."

"It's not like we had a choice either because Catherine wouldn't let anybody leave until we had a winner," Lexie added, "that's when Paige started arguing with her to get her to lighten up-not that it worked." Lara couldn't suppress the look of utter bemusement that crept up on her face as she regarded the two of them.

"So...why did you go there in the first place then? You had to have known that it was another one of those stupid 'initiation rituals'...and hasn't anybody gone to the coach about it yet?"

"I really don't know why we went. I couldn't tell you," Lexie said sheepishly, "and none of us remember what happened because we were so drunk so it's not like our word would be worth much even if we _did_ go to the coach."

"Think about it this way," Hannah said, "it's pretty much a given that the upperclassmen will vouch for the captains anyways so going to the coach is going to accomplish nothing but painting targets on our backs. And, well, we all know how awful Catherine can be already."

"I could go to the coach then," Lara offered, "I could even talk to her right after the meeting today assuming the captains aren't still around to hear us. That way I'm the only person who'll get targeted if they find out." Lexie and Hannah both blinked at her in surprise.

"Wait, you're bloody serious?" Hannah inquired, "You sure about that? I mean, if you are then that'd be awesome of course." Lara shrugged impassively.

"I went to an all-girls Christian school so I've dealt with more than my fair share of mean girls like Catherine." Lexie snickered.

"Somebody should give her a Kalteen Bar," she remarked, and Lara could only blink at her dumbfoundedly in response.

"A wot now?" she stammered, and Lexie gave her a look that suggested that Lara had just committed some heinous crime.

"Haven't you watched Mean Girls?" she asked incredulously.

"No, I can't say that I have," Lara answered, struggling to understand why that was so reprehensible.

"Dear God, you definitely went to a Christian school alright…" Lexie shook her head in disbelief, "Okay, remind me to lend you my copy of it at some point."

"Alright," Lara said for lack of having another response, not that she needed one as they reached their destination. "Shall we?" she asked, and they entered the athletic building together, finding their way to the meeting room, where the captains had already found their seats in the front right corner. Lara looked over at Paige and noted that the dark-skinned girl appeared to be distancing herself from her fellows in sullen silence.

"Let's sit over there," Hannah said quietly, pointing at the back left corner, completely opposite to the captains' location, and began walking towards it. Lara and Lexie followed her lead without complaint. Over the course of the next ten minutes the rest of the gymnastics team began to slowly file into the room and take their seats, followed shortly thereafter by the coach, who instead walked up to the front of the room. She was a short, thin, Spanish woman who appeared to be in her mid-30's, and was usually very friendly towards the gymnasts while still managing to exude an air of great authority.

"Alright ladies," she said, trilling her r's and pronouncing her s's with a slight lisp. She set her bag down on the front desk and pulled a folder out of it, from which she removed a stack of papers, "Everybody here? Yes? Good, let's get started then." She set the folder down next to her bag and carried the papers over to the podium at the front and cleared her throat, "Before I read these off, I want to remind everyone that these placements aren't necessarily permanent and that it's certainly possible for a substitute to become a competitor or vice versa. By the same token, I made the selections that I did for a reason. Okay, so...for the vault we have: Paige, Destiny…"

Lara almost immediately tuned the coach out while she observed what was happening in the opposite corner. It appeared that Catherine was attempting to talk to Paige, but the more she tried, the more Paige slid herself away from the former and ignored her. Lara found herself speculating on and wondering what had happened to make Paige act in such a manner. Perhaps her and Catherine had a row? Lara quickly lost herself in her reverie as she ran through all sorts of different scenarios in her head until-

"All-around gymnasts: Lara, Catherine, Mercedes. Congratulations to everybody competing, are there any questions at this time?" Lara could only stare at the coach wide-eyed and slack-jawed while Lexie and Hannah lightly rapped her on the shoulder with their fists and congratulated her. She was an all-around gymnast? With _Catherine_? She chanced a glance at the redhead, who didn't look happy in the slightest as she drew her face into a scowl, pursed her lips, and clenched her jaw. Lara didn't like it one bit; who knew what Catherine was thinking or planning?

"I have a question, coach. Why aren't I doing all-around? That was my event for the entire season last year!" said one of the older gymnasts with an Australian accent.

"Because you didn't earn the spot," the coach said simply.

"But-"

"No buts! Tell me, can you honestly say that you put in every last bit of effort that you could in order to earn that spot?" The gymnast didn't respond. "Did you do everything that you could have on your part to refine your technique and prepare yourself for competition?" Still no answer. "Allow me to answer for you, then. No, you did not, and it shows. I suggest you work harder next time if you want the spot."

The coach looked around at everybody in the room before continuing, "I'm beginning to feel like some of you are under the impression that just because you had certain spots last year I'd simply hand them over to you again this year. So, let me clarify something for all of you: as far as this year goes, last year doesn't matter. At all! Not in the slightest! _Comprende_? Handing these spots to you on a silver plate is not the way I operate. We have a lot of strong, young talent this year, and if they're putting in more effort and showing more improvement than my older gymnasts? Well, they're the ones who are going to be competing. Period. End of story. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes ma'am," muttered everyone in the room.

"Good. You should know if you're one of the individuals I'm talking about, and you should also know that I expect a radical change in attitude from here on out. I will not coach a group of underachievers. My job is to push you to succeed, and that's what I'm going to do," she slapped a hand down on the podium and took a deep breath to calm herself, "now then. That being said, the Thursday after this Thursday we have pictures, during which the photographers will be taking headshots of the competitors to post alongside competition results as well as a team photo. Plan accordingly. Since we're also technically a club, we'll be doing leotard and warm-up orders next week as well so that we'll have everything ready and in order for our first competition in January. Everybody follow?" The team nodded to indicate that they did, "We don't have practice today so be ready to get back to work on Monday and I'll see you then. _Wait_ -one more thing! If you're doing the floor exercise as an individual event or for all-around you should start working on a routine soon. Okay, that is all."

Everybody started getting up and heading for the door to leave once she had finished speaking. Lara, on the other hand, pick her bag up and struggled through the mass of bodies conglomerating around the door to get to the front of the room. She finally managed to dislodge herself from the crowd after a few moments and started making her way over to the coach, who was packing her things back into her bag. Much to Lara's dismay, however, Catherine beat her there.

"Hey coach," Catherine said in an uncharacteristically polite tone, "do you think we could speak in private for a moment?"

"Of course," the coach responded, "I have to pick my son up though so let's talk while I walk to my car." She picked her bag up and walked out the door behind the rest of the team with Catherine in tow. Recognizing defeat, Lara could only watch them go before taking a deep breath and leaving as well.

* * *

With how distracted she was, Lara couldn't even focus on her schoolwork when she sat down to do it that evening. When she read the same paragraph for the third time in a row without absorbing any of the information it contained, she swore and slammed the book that she was reading shut on her desk. If college was the beginning of the rest of her life then her future looked bleak indeed. Figuring it was futile to continue to try to do schoolwork only to be met with a disappointing lack of progress, she decided to get an early night.

She slid her chair out from under the desk and walked over to her bureau to find something to sleep in. She pulled the top drawer open and sorted through the clothes folded up inside before pulling out an old t-shirt and setting it aside. As she was looking for a pair of sweatpants, her phone buzzed in her pocket. She pulled it out and looked down at the caller ID to see that she was being called by Lexie, and answered it.

"Hello?" she asked tentatively.

"Lara?" Lexie asked in a quiet voice. It alarmed Lara to hear how scared she sounded. "This is so fucked! I don't know what to do!"

"Huh?" Lara blurted out, completely taken aback, "Wait, what's fucked? What are you talking about?"

"This initiation bullshit!" Lexie exclaimed loudly, pausing for a moment to take a few deep breaths. When she spoke again her voice was softer, "Remember what I told you about the drinking contest last night? Apparently they took pictures-really, _really_ bad ones. Catherine showed us printed copies to prove she wasn't lying and if we don't do what she says tonight she'll put them online!" Lexie was speaking so rapidly at that point that Lara almost didn't catch everything she was saying.

"Wait, wait, wait, hang on," Lara said, taking a seat on the edge of her bed as she talked, "who do you mean by 'they?' The captains? I thought you said Paige wasn't that bad..."

"I thought she was- fuck if I know! She's not even here right now!" Lexie's voice wavered, and Lara quickly ran a hand through her hair several times.

"Lexie, listen to me," she said seriously, "I need you to calm down for a second. Where are you right now, and what exactly is going on? What's Catherine doing? You have to explain everything to me or else I can't help you."

"Okay, okay," Lexie breathed into the phone, "I'm in a bathroom right now because I managed to slip away for a bit but everyone else is at the rugby fields and what Catherine and Brittany are trying to do is just awful! They want us all to sing 'Lord Save The Queen' at the top of our lungs. Naked. In the middle of the rugby fields _which are on campus_ ," Lara struggled to hear her over the sound of her own heart pulsing in anger coupled with the ringing in her ears, "what if security walks by and calls the cops on us? What if students hear us and come out to investigate? What do I do?!" Lexie sounded like she was on the verge of tears and Lara racked her brain for a solution.

"Alright, keep it together just a little bit longer for me. I know what to do-"

"Please tell me you'll get us out of this mess," Lexie pleaded.

"I'm going to try but I need you to listen and do what I ask, can you do that?"

"Yeah, anything, just please help…" Lara heard a sniff through the phone, and she found herself somehow hating Catherine more by the minute even though she didn't think it was possible.

"This is what we're going to do," Lara began as calmly as she could, "you're going to talk to Hannah and anybody else you can get on board. Then, you're all going to stall Catherine and Brittany until I get there. Once I get there, you're going to try to get a hold of those printed photos for evidence and let me handle the rest. Got it?"

"I...I think so?" came Lexie's shaky reply.

"Good, I'll see you in a bit then." Lara hung up the phone and only then became conscious of how much she was shaking from anger.

She stood up, snatched her pullover off the back of her desk chair, threw it on along with a pair of sneakers she had left at the foot of her bed, and bolted out the door. She didn't even remember exiting the dorm hall or getting to campus, only that rage fueled her every movement and propelled her into action. They were only a week into the term and Catherine had successfully gotten on Lara's every last nerve. Enough was enough, Catherine was going to pay for everything she'd done.

The rugby fields soon came into view along with the gymnastics team, and Lara slowed her approach to a walk so that she wouldn't be out of breath when she came face-to-face with Catherine. " _Catherine_!" she barked angrily, causing the heads of everyone there to turn in her direction. She could see the first years exchanging looks with each other out of the periphery of her vision, but all she really cared about at that moment were the two captains standing before her. "Are you fucking kidding me right now?" She demanded, coming to a stop a few steps in front of them and crossing her arms over her chest.

"This doesn't even involve you so I suggest you leave while you still can," Catherine jeered with narrowed eyes, but Lara remained unmoved.

"It kind of does involve me when I'm getting calls from five different people claiming that you're blackmailing the first years and hazing them for the grand finale of hell week." The bluff had the desired effect as both Catherine's and Brittany's faces went ghost white.

"Bullshit!" Brittany blustered in disbelief, and Lara shook her head with a slight smirk on her face.

"Oh, you wish… Say, I wonder what the coach would think if I told her about this? Shall we find out?" Lara asked, pulling out her smartphone and opening up the keypad to dial a number.

"Don't you fucking _dare_!" Catherine shouted, lunging out at Lara.

The sound of Lara's fist connecting with flesh coincided with the gasps of several girls, and the next thing she knew Catherine was down on the grass with a hand over her nose, from which blood ran down her face and neck and onto her shirt. Lara looked down at her still-clenched fist in shock, then up at Catherine, then back down at her fist, which had started throbbing painfully. Had she really just done that?

"Shit!" Brittany screeched. Lara shook her hand out and backed away a few steps in case Brittany struck out at her as well, all while still observing Catherine with the same shocked expression, "What the hell is wrong with you?!" At that moment Lexie came up to Lara with a stack of papers turned upside down to conceal the offending photos from the public eye. Lara took them without looking at the images so as to spare the girls from further embarrassment.

"Thanks," she said in as even a tone as she could manage with the amount of adrenaline that was pumping through her veins. Lexie only nodded in response while looking back and forth between Catherine and Lara, who turned her attention back to the captains.

"You're fuggig dead, bidch!" Catherine spluttered through the blood in her mouth as Brittany helped her back up onto her feet, and pinched her nose in an attempt to stop the bleeding. Lara opened her to mouth to fire off a response, but couldn't find the words to do so.

 _Toughen up, Croft!_ she mentally berated herself, and took a deep breath before she finally spoke. "Is that so?" she demanded, mainly stalling for time while she thought of something better to say.

"That's assault! I'm calling the cops!" Brittany pulled her phone out to dial the emergency services number.

"I wouldn't do that!" Lara cut in quickly, her heart and mind racing, and Brittany paused. "Catherine attacked me first-I only acted in self-defense!" The look that Catherine was giving Lara at that point was one of pure malice, and she felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up.

"Whad proof do you hab?" Catherine spat at her, spraying a few drops of blood onto the ground. Lara swallowed thickly past the nervous lump in her throat, aware that one small slip up could very well put her behind bars.

"All of the witnesses we have here right now," she answered matter-of-factly, and suddenly remembered the photos she was holding, "plus, do you know what these are?" She held the stack of papers up for Catherine to see, and the latter blanched at the sight, "that's right. The photos that you took last night. So if you even try calling the cops I'll use this evidence to nail you and Brittany for hazing and blackmail. And that's assuming you don't get charged with attempted assault on top of that..."

"What do you want from us?" Brittany demanded, her voice hard but her eyes reflecting the fear she felt. Lara had to resist the urge to let out a sigh of relief.

"Nothing, actually." Brittany and Catherine gave her a look of mixed perplexion and disbelief, as did nearly everyone else, but Lara shook her head and steeled herself before continuing. "No, really. I don't give a damn about ruining other peoples' lives because I'm nothing like you two. Just consider Catherine's crooked nose a warning to never piss me off or harass the younger gymnasts again…" She glared at the two of them for a moment or two before speaking directly to Brittany, "Now get the hell out of here, and take that stupid bint with you." They stared at each other in silence until Brittany eventually tugged on Catherine's arm, and they left together. Lara watched them go until she was sure they were actually leaving before folding the photos and putting them inside the muff of her pullover. She turned to leave but Lexie got in her way.

"Wait, Lara-" Lara held up her sore, bruising hand to stop her.

"I'm not in the most sociable of moods considering I just _shattered a person's nose_ so can it please just wait?" Lexie looked rather taken aback but ended up nodding in the end despite that. Lara pulled her hood up over her head without another word and started making the trek back to her dorm.

Despite her best efforts to focus on other matters, the entire confrontation kept replaying in her mind over, and over, and every time it did she could feel Catherine's nose breaking beneath her fist again. The entire thing made her feel sick to her stomach, even if Catherine had deserved it. She never really did care much for violence, it was one of the very few things she had in common with Deranged Dick-not that she wasn't capable of looking after herself, either. She just preferred to avoid the worst case scenario when possible.

 _Good thing I didn't end up boxing like mum…_ Lara thought, recalling the conversation she had with Roth at the beginning of the week. She opened and closed her right hand, wincing at the way the tender flesh stretched over her bruised knuckles. Then, something unexpected happened: she felt bad for Catherine. What if her nose actually did end up permanently disfigured? Lara rubbed her knuckles and wondered if she should tell anyone what she'd done before quickly discarding the idea. She had done what she had done, and getting herself in trouble wouldn't change that or assuage the niggling sense of guilt she had. She'd just have to accept and deal with the consequences of her actions. She made it back to Connaught Hall sometime later and lumbered up the stairs to her floor instead of using the elevator before going back inside her dorm to-

She froze and pulled her hood back down when she opened the door and found the room occupied by another person. Both her and the asian girl who was now in there stared at each other in mutual shock for what felt like an eternity before the girl got up from where she lay on the bed that, up until then, had been unused and neglected. She looked to be roughly an inch or two shorter than Lara, with brown eyes and black hair, the left side of which was completely buzzed off, that she was nervously running her fingers through.

"You must be my roommate then?" Just like most of the people Lara had been meeting recently, the girl was an American. Lara nodded wordlessly to indicate that was correct, "Cool! Lara, right? You're in my lit class."

"Yeah," Lara said almost robotically, her entire body still in defense mode after everything that had happened. She shook her head to try to snap herself out of whatever trance she was in, "sorry, and you are…?"

"Sam. Nice to meet you," Sam took a few steps forward and stuck a hand out with a sheepish grin on her face. Lara shook it with her injured hand without thinking, wincing almost immediately when she realized her mistake. Sam looked down to see what Lara was wincing about and raised a brow at her injured hand, "what'd you do to your hand? Is it alright?" Lara took her hand back and cradled it almost protectively.

"Long story," she said wearily, shuffling over to her bureau to get the sweatpants she had been looking for before.

"Meaning?" Sam asked without moving an inch. Lara found a pair of black sweatpants and grabbed the t-shirt that she had set aside earlier.

"Meaning I'd rather not discuss it right now," she squeezed her eyes shut and grimaced when she noticed how irritated she sounded. "Sorry. I've just had a really long night and I'm still processing everything myself." Sam shrugged dismissively.

"It happens, we've all been there. I won't bug you about it if it's really that bad," she strode over to her bed and flopped back down onto it.

"Thank you," Lara said gratefully, slightly surprised at the fact that somebody hadn't deemed it necessary to snoop around in her personal business for a change.

"Anytime," Sam replied, already setting her laptop down on her lap to resume whatever she had been doing before being interrupted. Lara hesitated, wondering if she should say something else before deciding against it and picking a towel up to go shower. It wasn't a lot, but as she let the warm water run down her tired back a few minutes later she was able to relax to some degree. It was more than what she had expected to get out of her day after the way it ended, and for that, at least, she was appreciative. Perhaps the future didn't look so bleak after all.

* * *

 **I have uploaded the soundtrack to YouTube and will update it as new chapters are added to Beginnings. You can find it by either clicking the "Fic Soundtracks" icon on my tumblr page or by filling in the dots to the following link and entering it into your task bar:** **youtubecom/playlist?list=PLAj7hWeDX6MJnu5KIO748ikTUiWfRliHn**

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 **Tumblr: LexCroftManor**

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 **AO3: WhatTheSchmuck**


	6. Introductions

**Howdy there everyone! So, I'm not going to go around making promises about how quick chapters submissions will be this time around but I do wanna take a moment to apologize for my inactivity. I had some things come up on my end that prevented me from working on this fic. The good news is that I finally have the time to start focusing on doing the things I love again so I'm _hoping_ to get consistent again but like I said, I'm not gonna make any promises. That being said:**

 **Special thanks to Kyle from Twitter and deberzer for their help in making this chapter a reality!**

 **All feedback appreciated!**

 **The song for this chapter is Feel Good Inc. by Gorillaz.**

* * *

When Sam awoke the next morning, it wasn't in a bathtub, on a couch, or next to a pile of her stomach's disgorged contents. Following the events of the day before, and her phone call with Jess in particular, she had lost all energy for partaking in any nightly hedonistic activities. As if it wasn't bad enough that she had lost all contact with the one person she cared about more than anything, the pictures that Jess had uploaded to Facebook the very same day made it seem like she was anything but struggling to move on. Seeing her ex's smiling face amidst a group of other college age girls at Hope Park, all Sam could feel was pathetic and completely worthless. Jess was living her life up in Philadelphia, meeting loads of new peoples, and what was she doing in the meantime? Mixing drugs and alcohol to bury her feelings and missing class on the regular? Even though she was privileged enough to attend one of the best universities in the world? It was enough to leave her feeling disgusted with herself and thinking that she never deserved to be with Jess in the first place.

So for the first time since getting to school, Sam spent the night in her dorm and finally met her roommate, who also happened to be the girl she could hardly keep herself from ogling at in class. Even as Lara remained fast asleep on the other side of the room, Sam still found herself struggling to avert her gaze someplace other than the former's finely-sculpted facial features. From her defined jawline and pouty lips all the way up to her brows, whose shape and angle perfectly framed her eyes to give off the impression of sharpness and intuition, there wasn't a single perceptible flaw in any facet of her being. And pining for Jess as she was, Sam had to admit to herself how attractive she found Lara to be, the acknowledgement of which only left her feeling conflicted on the inside. It still felt like yesterday that her and Jess had broken up, and it seemed tactless for her to so much as look at other women so soon.

Besides which point, who knew if Lara was even interested in women that way? There was no point in running the risk of putting herself in an awkward position to find out. And what if her attraction to Lara was nothing more than a mental fabrication designed to fill the void left behind by Jess's absence in the first place? As much as she would have liked to deny it, Sam had to concede that might indeed be the case. In any case, if there was one thing that she was certain of, it was that she needed to get over Jess sooner rather than later-and the only way that was going to happen was if she started putting herself out there more and meeting new people. Since her and Lara were going to be living together anyways, she reasoned that she might as well start there.

Assuming that Lara would actually wake up first, that is, instead of only getting Sam's hopes up every so often with her periodic sleep-grunting. When she had stirred without waking for the third time in a row, Sam decided that she couldn't take any more and threw the covers off herself. With a sigh, she lugged herself out of bed and took a moment to stretch the sleep from her limbs before grabbing her backpack off the floor. With that in tow, she made her way over to her desk to get herself set up and situated. If she was going to sit around and wait, she figured she might as well be productive and start catching up on all of her missed coursework.

That turned out to be easier said than done, however, given that she'd neglected to refill her Concerta prescription prior to leaving home. Try as she did for the duration of the next hour or so, she only managed to get through one chapter of her Introduction to Film textbook before ultimately admitting defeat. Silently cursing herself and scowling in frustration, she closed her book and rubbed her tired eyes out while considering her other options. It was still too early back in America to call her mom, and she sincerely doubted that she'd get an answer regardless. Likewise, it was highly improbable that Molly would be awake either-she had purposefully scheduled all of her classes past noon for a reason. Even if she was awake, it was very likely that all she would want to do is smoke "The Devil's Lettuce," as she called it, and Sam wasn't too keen on the idea considering those kinds of illicit habits were what put her in her current academic crisis in the first place. So, seeing no other viable alternatives for passing the time, she pulled her laptop and earbuds out of her bag and settled herself back down in bed to watch movies until Lara woke up.

* * *

Halfway through _The Shawshank Redemption_ , Sam detected movement in the periphery of her vision and paused the movie to investigate. Turning her head, she saw that Lara had finally rejoined the realm of the living and watched as, with a soft yawn, the latter heaved herself up off her bed and sluggishly made her way to the bathroom. The moment the door snapped shut behind her, Sam removed her earbuds with a pensive frown and deliberated over the best course of action. There was the ever-lingering chance that Lara might still be tense from whatever had happened to her the previous night, and trying to strike up a conversation with her might only make her more irritable. But what if things didn't hit the fan and it all went smoothly?

Gargles echoed from the bathroom, followed by the sounds of liquid splattering into the sink basin, and Lara reemerged into the room shortly thereafter. Sam bit her lip and closed her laptop; as good as she was at reading people, she couldn't tell whether or not Lara was still agitated by her body language. She didn't seem angry or distressed-maybe a bit distracted, but that was it.

 _Nothing ventured, nothing gained...right?_ She thought, taking a small breath to steel herself before speaking, "So...you feeling any better today?" Lara, who had been rifling through her drawers for something, jumped slightly at this and gave Sam a look of perplexion.

"What are you-? Oh," she looked down at her bruised hand and rubbed it with the other, "yeah, a bit…" She hesitated before quickly adding, "I'm really sorry, by the way, I didn't mean to cut you off last night-"

"You're fine," Sam interjected, waving a hand out in front of her dismissively. When Lara still looked uncertain, she continued, "Really, it's not a big deal deal. Trust me. I gotta ask though...what happened? You looked pretty pissed off when you first came in."

"An accident," Lara answered matter-of-factly, "it's...kind of a long story."

"Don't worry about trying to explain anything, then. I just figured I'd try asking one more time after the fact, but I don't need to know any of the details." Sam swung her legs off the side of her bed to face Lara completely and sat herself on the edge, "So since we're going to either love or hate each other for at least the next few months, let's try this again… Hi! I'm Sam, nice to meet you!" She grinned cheekily, mentally fist pumping her victory when she saw the corners of Lara's lips twitch upwards in unmistakable amusement, "I won't shake your hand this time since that'd probably hurt."

"Probably," Lara agreed, "well then...nice to meet you again, Sam. I'm Lara." She nodded at Sam's guitar leaning up against the wall in the corner, "You play?" Sam looked over at the spruce and rosewood acoustic before shifting her focus back to Lara and nodding.

"Yup! For a while now, actually. I took lessons for a few years and kept practicing on my own after that. It's a nice way to detox after a long day." She remembered with a pang the lazy Saturday afternoons her and Jess used to spend playing their guitars together, and she shook her head to clear it of the painful memories, "Anyways, do you play as well or were you just curious?"

"Just curious," Lara admitted, "I do play the piano though, I'm just a bit out of practice currently." Sam had to resist the urge to smirk; she had Lara made for a pianist before she had even said anything. It was only fitting with her accent and the way she sat on the edge of her own bed all upright and proper.

"Out of practice or not, that's still pretty cool. I could never get the hang of the piano when I tried it."

"I just had a good teacher, I suppose…" Lara said as she gathered her unruly mane behind her head, using a scrunchie from her wrist to hold it in place. Sam was marveling at how something so messy could look so effortlessly perfect when she spotted the jade pendant hanging around Lara's neck.

"What's that?" She asked, pointing to it. Lara looked down to see what she was referring to, and cupped the jewelry in the palm of her hand.

"This? It's a magatama, I'm fairly certain it's from the late Kofun period judging by the material it's made of. I...found it on a dig." Sam blinked in surprise.

"Wow, remind me to never let you meet my dad because he'd probably adopt you on the spot. He's obsessed with his Japanese heritage… Also, what'd you mean by 'dig'?" Lara regarded her intently.

"Your dad's Japanese?" She inquired, leaving Sam's question unacknowledged. Sam debated about asking again but figured that it was easier to let it go.

"Why the sudden curiosity? Think you might want to put yourself up for adoption now?" She joked instead. "But to answer your question: yeah, he is. He's technically Japanese and American since he has a dual citizenship, but he was born in Tokyo and grew up there," Lara raised an inquisitive brow at her.

"Huh. _Anata wa nihongo o hanasemasu ka_?" Sam stared at Lara in utter disbelief, her intrigue increasing with every passing minute.

"What the shit?" She blurted out before catching herself and answering the question, " _Hai, watashi wa ryūchōdesu_ but okay, for one thing where'd you learn to speak so well? And for another, what're you even studying anyways?" Lara let out a small laugh.

"Well, for one thing I learned to speak Japanese at school but haven't really had anybody to speak it with-"

"Get used to speaking it on a regular basis then, because I'm totally abusing the hell out of this around other people!" Sam cut in.

"-And for another, I'm studying archaeology with a concentration in East Asian history," Lara finished.

"Okay well _that_ makes sense then," Sam remarked, "but why archaeology?" Lara shrugged.

"I suppose it's because I've always had an interest in history and learning where we came from," she replied, thumbing her magatama while she spoke.

"Isn't that second part more-so related to science? Like a biology and evolution sort of thing?" Lara, clearly caught off guard by Sam's question, sat there in pensive silence for several moments before delivering her reply.

"Do you consider archaeology a science?" She asked at length, and it was Sam's turn to think.

"I honestly don't know," she finally admitted after a minute or two, "do you?"

"Absolutely," Lara said without hesitation. "Archaeologists frequently utilize the scientific method and come up with testable, falsifiable hypotheses for how certain things came to be. As more facts are unearthed, these hypotheses are either proven or disproven. From there, the hypotheses either become widely accepted as theories until such a time when further findings confirm them to be facts, or archaeologists go back and revise them accordingly." Sam felt like she was beginning to see Lara's point, "So now lemme ask you again: do you consider archaeology a science?"

"When you put it all that way, I do," Sam affirmed. "I guess I never really looked at things that way before, it's an interesting perspective…" She regarded Lara with interest before continuing, "Y'know... I dunno if anybody's told you this yet, but you're pretty damn smart. I can tell just by the way you talk." Lara's face flushed at this.

"I- wot?" She stammered.

"C'mon, gimme a break," Sam persisted, "I can't be the only one who's noticed that! Admit it, you know your stuff!"

"I...I mean…" Lara cleared her throat, "I try to stay on top of everything, sure, but…" her voice trailed off weakly and Sam, taking pity on her, let up.

"Alright, alright- _breathe_! Your face makes it look like you're going to pass out from oxygen deprivation or something!" She exclaimed, alarmed by the bright red hue that Lara's face had adopted. _Is she not used to getting compliments or something?_ She wondered, hard as that was to believe with everything Lara had going for her. Perhaps she was simply shyer than Sam had been led to believe? That wasn't too far-fetched given the fact that Lara apparently seldom spoke up in class, as evidenced by the way Sam remembered their Lit professor reacting when she had answered a question in class the previous day.

"I'm fine, really, I-" Lara's face was still light pink when she looked down at her phone mid-speech and stood up, "Sorry, I need to take this." She answered her phone and held it up to her ear, "Hello? ...Yes, this is she," she said, pacing back and forth across the room while she listened to the whoever was speaking on the other end of the line. "Yes… Yes? Yeah, I can do that…" her eyes lit up all of a sudden, and when she spoke again her voice was full of poorly contained excitement, "of course! Thank you very much, I'll see you then!"

"What's up?" Sam asked when Lara pocketed her phone, "Am I keeping you from something you need to do?"

"Oh no, of course not," Lara assured her, her face finally a normal color again when she took a seat back down on her bed, "that was just a bar I applied for a job at calling to set up an interview." Sam must have done a terrible job at hiding her skepticism at this, because Lara tilted her head slightly with a confused expression on her face a moment later, "What?"

"Sorry...I was kinda thrown off because, you know…" Lara frowned.

"No, I don't know...what're you talking about?" Sam scratched the back of her neck nervously.

"Well...it's just that with your accent...and everything…" Lara's mouth formed somewhat of an "O" shape at this, and her frown was instantly forgotten.

"I see…" she remarked, her hands busying themselves with her ponytail, "well, you know what they say: don't judge a book by its cover."

"I know, sorry," Sam groaned, "that's totally shitty of me to jump to conclusions like that…" _Way to make a good first impression, Sam!_ She mentally berated herself.

"It's quite alright," Lara responded calmly, "in fact I'm not surprised in the slightest considering those myths that people have come up with about correlations between various intonations and socioeconomic background. Sure, it can be accurate to assume somebody's a 'peasant' if they have a cockney accent for example, but not always. It's like me assuming that Americans with a New York accent are automatically impatient assholes-er, no offense if you know anybody who speaks like that." Sam snorted.

"None taken because the people I know who're like that _are_ assholes...but I see what you mean. I've never been to England before, let alone London, so I don't even know what I don't know," Sam shrugged. "For instance, the other day these two guys were looking at me while talking about a septic tank and I still dunno why."

"Septic tank?" Lara posed, "That's cockney rhyming slang for 'yank,' which is a term we have for Americans. Unless they were talking about actual septic tanks, of course, but that doesn't seem to be the case."

"So when they were saying that they'd 'really like to shag that septic tank'..." Sam's voice trailed off and Lara sniggered nervously, apparently deciding that the ceiling was more interesting to look at right then.

"That, ah...that basically means they really wanted to get into your knickers," she admitted sheepishly, looking a touch bashful.

"Oh," Sam uttered, feeling her face go hot, "uh, good to know. At least I think it is? I have no clue… You wanna just be my permanent British English translator from now on?"

"I could try," Lara replied, "but sometimes I don't even know what people from different regions are saying."

"Trust me, I know what you mean. I've been to Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania before and I swear to God they _actually_ use the word 'yinz' for 'you all' over there, isn't that awful?" Lara's bewildered expression was the only answer she needed, "Yeah. I don't get it either. Anyways, having somebody around who understands most of what other people are saying is better than not having a friggin' clue."

"Well then I'm happy to oblige," Lara declared, and Sam couldn't help but smile.

"You know what, Lara?" She began, "You seem pretty cool, you have any plans for the day?" The look that Lara wore on her face when she grinned back at Sam was one of sheer guilt and embarrassment.

"Not at all...you wouldn't happen to have seen Mean Girls, would you?"

* * *

 **For those of you who were wondering, Lara asked Sam in Japanese "do you speak Japanese?" and Sam responded with "Yes, I am fluent."**

 **You can find the soundtrack to Beginnings by either clicking the "Fic Soundtracks" icon on my tumblr page or by filling in the dots to the following link and entering it into your task bar:** **youtubecom/playlist?list=PLAj7hWeDX6MJnu5KIO748ikTUiWfRliHn**

 **You can find me under these usernames/handles on the following sites:**

 **Tumblr: LexCroftManor**

 **Twitter: LexCroftManor**

 **AO3: WhatTheSchmuck**


	7. Old Habits Die Hard

**As usual, thank you to everyone who continues to give me honest feedback on the content!**

 **All feedback appreciated!**

 **The song for this chapter is Beautiful Pain by Eminem ft. Sia**

* * *

Cold dread settled in the pit of Lara's stomach as she stared at her laptop screen in a state of borderline catatonia. Last week, the gymnastics squad had their photos taken, after which the coach handed them brief questionnaires and informed them that online profile pages were going to be created for each of them using their individual headshots. In theory, Lara took no issue with this; her headshot was one of the better photos she'd taken in her lifetime despite the fact that she hadn't smiled for it. What she _did_ take issue with was the biography that had been included on her page in particular. Struggling to not give in to the panic that threatened to consume her, she read it over once more:

 _Lara Croft_

 _Height: 168cm_

 _Event: All-Around_

 _DOB: 14/02/1992 (17 y/o)_

 _Born Lara Amelia Croft in Guildford, Surrey… Daughter of Richard and Amelia Croft… Lara is a first year archaeologist and has been doing gymnastics since the age of four. Prior to attending UCL, she trained at Leatherhead and Dorking Gymnastics Club, often representing them at elite-level competitions. Outside of gymnastics, she also competed for the track and field team at Marymount International School London for the duration of her secondary education, participating in events such as high jump, the 400m, and the 800m. In her free time, she enjoys activities such as archery, reading, hiking, and rock climbing._

When the coach had handed a questionnaire out to every gymnast, she had made it sound like their biographies were only going to include the information from their responses, namely their interests and athletic backgrounds. Instead, just about every detail of Lara's upbringing that she'd made a concerted effort to keep under wraps to that point had been put on display for anyone to see, Catherine included. While the gymnastics captain hadn't caused any further trouble since receiving a surprise nose job, there wasn't a single doubt in Lara's mind that she was simply biding her time and waiting for her chance at revenge.

It was unsettling to picture the gleeful smile that would undoubtedly stretch across Catherine's face when she realized who the daughter of Crazy Croft was, and Lara felt her stomach churn at the thought. No matter what angle she approached the situation from, there didn't seem to be a way out of it. Even if she _were_ able to convince the coach to omit specific pieces of information from her profile, she knew that an incomplete profile page would still stick out like a sore thumb compared to the others. It was bound to raise questions no matter what, and sooner or later her identity was going to be revealed regardless, after which point… Lara buried her face in her hands.

It was going to be Marymount all over again.

* * *

"What do _you_ want?" One of the girls barring her passage demanded. Lara folded an arm across her chest and rubbed her elbow nervously.

"Just finding a place to sit…" she replied quietly.

"Well go find a place to sit somewhere else, freak!" Another girl spat at her. When Lara remained unmoved, the girl scowled, "Are you even listening or have you gone completely barmy like that father of yours?! I said scram!" As much as she would have liked to wipe the snide looks off the girls' faces, Lara knew that doing so would only serve to make things worse for herself. Unclenching the fists that she'd unconsciously balled her hands up into, she turned on her heel to walk away when the first girl piped up again.

"Hey, Crazy Croft! Don't forget your lunch!" Lara felt something splatter all over the back of her head and neck, and she froze. The entire dining hall went completely silent in that instant, save for the laughter she heard coming from behind, and she could feel that all eyes were on her. Her heart started pounding in her throat, and she felt her ears go hot.

"And your dessert!" The other girl added, and Lara felt another messy collision on the back of her head not too long thereafter. Choking back all the rage, shame, and humiliation that threatened to spill from her eyes, she reached up with a shaking hand to wipe the mess from her nape. When she pulled it away, she found it covered in assorted spaghetti and chocolate cake bits. She swallowed thickly and took a deep breath in an attempt to steady herself before speaking.

"Thanks," she said as evenly as she could without looking back at them. "It's good to know you've got my back covered. I might've gone hungry otherwise." She made her way to the bathroom without another word, refusing to let the tears she'd been choking back flow until she was finally holed up within the safe confines of a stall. Sobbing raggedly, she cursed Deranged Dick for all he'd done between snivels and whimpers until her throat went raw and her eyes ran dry. It was all his fault, everything was his fault, and she hated him for it.

* * *

The sounds of a key being inserted into a lock jolted Lara back to reality, and she scrambled to close out her laptop's browser as Sam let herself into the room.

"Hello, hello," Sam said cheerfully in a sing-song voice as the door swung shut behind her. Dropping her bag down on the floor beside her, she made her way over to her bed and flopped down on top of it. "Holy shit, you wouldn't believe what just happened! I have this partner in Chem lab and-" she stopped mid-sentence when she looked over at Lara, and frowned concernedly, "waddup with the long face? Everything alright?"

 _No,_ Lara thought to herself. "Yeah," she replied as naturally as she could instead, "I'm just...a bit stressed out is all." That wasn't far from the truth, either.

"Is it because of the Macbeth reading and response paper due tomorrow?" Sam inquired.

"No, no, I already did that," Lara said, sighing for added effect. "It's mostly just that everything in general's getting to me with how busy my schedule is...anyways, weren't you saying something about a lab partner?" she added in an attempt to change the topic before Sam had the chance to question her any further.

"Oh yeah!" Sam exclaimed, shaking her head in apparent disbelief as she propped herself up on her elbows, "So I have this lab partner who I swear was dropped on her head as a child and in lab today we were working with powdered zinc, right? Now, I never took AP Chem but I still know that powdered zinc's really reactive and the lab professor _explicitly stated_ to not throw it away or get it wet! But did my partner listen? Nope! The dumb bitch threw the zinc away and _started a friggin' trash can fire!_ " In spite of herself, Lara let out a snort and dissolved into a fit of laughter.

"Bloody hell…" She chortled, "How daft can you be?"

"Right?!" Sam huffed irritably, "I mean, how the hell'd she get into UCL in the first place if she can't even handle basic lab safety?!"

"Your guess is as good as mine...do you still have to work with her, then?" Lara asked, turning in her chair to face Sam more.

"I have no clue. I'm gonna either e-mail my professor about it or talk to him in person later on though…" Sam groaned, letting herself fall back into her bed and rubbing her eyes out. "What a fucking day...you wanna get out of here for a bit before we both lose our sanity?" Lara bit her lip pensively when Sam looked to her for an answer.

"I don't know…" she began uncertainly, "I start work at the Nine Bells this weekend and there's still a lot I need to get done before then…" which, once again, _was_ true; she had received a job offer on the spot after her interview.

"Oh yeah, I forgot they ended up hiring you," Sam's voice had a small hint of disappointment to it, "no worries, then!" She laced her fingers behind her head and closed her eyes. Lara looked on hesitantly, slight guilt niggling at the back of her mind. She liked Sam; she'd been polite and friendly right from the start, and her happy, care-free attitude was almost contagious. Was it really fair to blow her off in light of that?

"Oh sod it," Lara suddenly blurted out, "why not?" She switched her laptop off and stood up to hunt down a pair of shoes. Sam reopened her eyes and stared at Lara.

"Wait, really?" She asked in shock. "I mean, that's great, obviously! I just figured it would've been harder to pry you away from your dusty old textbooks is all."

"Don't get used to it," Lara warned, seating herself on the edge of her bed after finding a pair of boots to wear. "I _do_ need to be a bit more conscious of how I budget my time from here on out."

"Fair enough...why though?" Sam asked, and Lara looked up at her in confusion, "Why put yourself through the stress of balancing a job and classes? I mean, you're so smart-don't you have scholarships that cover the cost of school?" Lara paused just as she was securing her first boot on her foot.

"I do…" she began slowly, "but they aren't nearly enough to cover everything." She had her ancestry to thank for that; most of the scholarships that were available were based on financial need, and being the heiress of a peerage didn't exactly qualify her for selection.

"I'm sorry, that _sucks_ ," Sam said earnestly. Lara merely shrugged as she finished getting her other shoe on.

"It's alright, working helps keep me structured and focused anyways." She stood up and grabbed her phone and keys off her desk, "Shall we?" She interjected, and Sam blinked at her.

"Oh! Yeah, anything you wanna do in particular?" Lara gave her a look.

"Aren't you the one who suggested going out for a bit?" Sam grinned sheepishly as she sat up and scratched the back of her neck.

"Yeah, but I'm not exactly familiar with London so I was just gonna wing it." Lara folded her arms across her chest and regarded Sam with a raised brow.

"Hmmm…" she mused at length, "I guess I'll have to show you around, then. Come on."

* * *

"Wait, so you weren't kidding?" Sam asked incredulously as they made their way down towards the end of Platform 8 in King's Cross station. Lara smirked into her to-go cup and took a sip of tea.

"I wouldn't have brought you here to prove it if I was, as amusing as that would have been," she quipped, turning left towards Platform 9.

"Alright, smartass," Sam snarked in return. Lara was too busy trying to find what she was looking for to think of an adequate retort.

"It should be about ten yards down on the left…" she muttered absentmindedly, "... _there_!" She barked triumphantly, pointing to a luggage trolley half embedded in a brick wall, above which hung a sign that read _Platform 9 ¾_.

" _Dude_!" Sam exclaimed, "It's a Potterhead's dream come true! But...why's it between Platforms 8 and 9?" She looked at Lara inquisitively.

"Ah, funny story, that…" Lara began. "You see, Platform 10 is actually in a separate building and is also adjacent to Platform 9 _meaning_ there couldn't have been a magical wall to travel through _meaning_ that J.K. Rowling actually made a mistake when writing Harry Potter." Sam looked stunned at this revelation.

"Wow. I feel like my entire childhood was a lie," she remarked sadly, "...I'm still getting my picture taken though because screw it! It's Harry Potter! Here, take my phone," she shoved her phone in Lara's hands before trotting over to the trolley gleefully, looking very much like a child in a candy store with the way she beamed excitedly while striking a pose. Rolling her eyes in amusement, Lara set her tea down and snapped a photo before motioning to indicate that she'd captured the image and returning Sam's phone to her.

"Was it everything you ever dreamed?" She asked sarcastically, retrieving her cup before they made their way out of the train station together.

"Oh hush, you're as much of a Potterhead as I am even if you won't admit it," Sam shot back. Lara's only response was to shrug noncommittally. "Exactly my point," Sam said smugly.

"Alright, alright, you got me. I read things other than the 'boring old classics' on occasion," Lara conceded.

"I never said they were boring!" Sam protested, "In fact, my favorite book is Pride and Prejudice!"

"Pride and Prejudice?" Lara asked skeptically, finishing her tea and throwing the cup away before sliding her hands in her pockets, "I never took you for a Jane Austen fan."

"It's great!" Sam responded a bit defensively, "It's not just about love, you know. Austen also put a lot of emphasis on the themes of class and reputation. I mean, think about it: the book depicts a society where a woman's behavior is constantly under heavy scrutiny because of the expectations placed on her by society, and to go against them is taboo. It's kinda crazy how much of that still rings true today in spite of the book's age, isn't it? Elizabeth's judged by her mom's behavior, and it's absolute bullshit but that's just how it goes. Instead of letting people be individuals, we decide to stick to these archaic values centered on acting the way everyone else wants you to and upholding family honor and all that crap, y'know?" Lara pensively stared off into the distance while they walked.

"Yeah, I do…" She said distractedly, quickly realizing her mistake and correcting herself, "What you're talking about, I mean. I know what you're talking about. Truth be told, the novel left me wanting, though."

"How so?"

"Well," Lara took a moment to gather her thoughts before continuing, "honestly, I felt like it left the theme of reputation unexplored. Austen certainly touched on things relating to reputation but to what extent does she really critique social structures? It just seemed like she simply accepted the inevitability of them. The happy ending was satisfying, sure, but it was a huge missed opportunity to make a statement. Such waste should be considered criminal."

" _Are_ they really inevitable though?" Sam posed.

"Of course," Lara said without hesitation, "you said so yourself: we're still subject to the same expectations today."

"But I never said we had to actually meet those expectations," Sam pointed out, "just that we stick to the values that give rise to them."

"Yeah, but can you picture the Queen street racing Fast and Furious style? Or the Earl of Farringdon making a sex tape? People would ridicule them; their image and reputation would be in shambles!"

"I dunno about that," Sam replied lightheartedly, "if the Queen started street racing that'd be pretty badass in my opinion, and if anything I think it'd make people love her even more. As for this Earl of Farringdon dude? Who really cares? Sure all the stuffy nobles might shun him but I don't think the general public would demonize him."

"You're wrong there," Lara came back a bit too quickly, and Sam regarded her with curiosity.

"What makes you so sure?" She asked.

"I…" Suddenly finding herself backed into a corner with no route of escape, Lara cleared her throat and carefully considered her next words. "Well, about five years ago there was this public figure who was...a bit eccentric. And he was subject to so much ridicule by the public and media that he ended up killing himself because of it. People in those positions are subject to more scrutiny…" Her voice trailed off, leaving her previous statement unfinished.

"Dude, you sure you're alright?" Sam cut in, "You've looked like you're being held at gunpoint on and off all day."

"Huh?" Lara asked innocently in an attempt to buy herself more time, "Yeah, why wouldn't I be? I already told-"

"Told me you're stressed out," Sam finished, "yeah, I know. But about what?"

"Sam…"

"I'm not going to tell anybody if that's what you're worried about; just tell me what's been bugging you so much. You can trust me," Sam insisted, and Lara couldn't help but sigh exasperatedly.

"It's not that I don't trust you, Sam. It's just personal and not anybody else's business." Lara couldn't help but let a hint of irritation creep into her voice. Her and Sam hadn't even known each other for a month and she was already trying to forcefully insert herself into every facet of her personal life. And for what purpose? Was the concept of boundaries simply a foreign concept to her? Or was it that she secretly already knew of Lara's noble lineage and was simply trying to get close to her to use her high-born ties for her own gain? Lara felt the heavy weight of dread settle in the pit of her stomach at this, and found herself instantly suspicious of Sam's intentions.

That was her problem. She was incapable of trusting anyone.

* * *

 **You can find the soundtrack to Beginnings by either clicking the "Fic Soundtracks" icon on my Tumblr page or by filling in the dots to the following link and entering it into your task bar: youtubecom/playlist?list=PLAj7hWeDX6MJnu5KIO748ikTUiWfRliHn**

 **You can find me under these usernames/handles on the following sites:**

 **Tumblr: LexCroftManor**

 **Twitter: LexCroftManor**

 **AO3: WhatTheSchmuck**


	8. The Revelation

**Hey, hi! I'm still alive! And I'm still sad and gay, but aren't we all?! #SaveOurSam**

 **All feedback appreciated!**

 **The song for this chapter is Calm Down by Krewella**

* * *

Sam regarded her laptop screen with a pensive frown and considered the disjointed series of shots before her. Contained within their depths was a story just waiting to be told, but the question was how she, as the film editor, was going to tell it. There were so many options; she could go the standard route, for instance, and sequence everything in chronological order. But what if that wasn't imaginative enough for her professor? In which case, perhaps it would do the film more justice to start in what she would introduce as the "present" and flashback to the past from there intermittently? She mused that it might be a good way to hook viewers, piquing their curiosity about the characters' situation and gradually revealing how they ended up there.

She leaned back in her desk chair and stretched her arms out over her head with an exasperated sigh. Realistically, she knew that it was only her first film editing assignment, and that her professor wouldn't be grading her too harshly, but when it came to film she was a perfectionist all the same. Besides which point, her semester had gotten off to such a rough start academically that she felt as though she had to go above and beyond so as to prove to her professors that she wasn't, in fact, a "mediocre slacker," as her father always claimed.

In light of recent events, however, it was proving difficult for her to stay focused. There was Jess, for one thing. Try as Sam did to not think about her, it was impossible. How could they go from spending every waking moment together to acting like complete strangers, temporary as that allegedly was? It made her feel increasingly miserable with each passing day.

And then there was Lara.

Ever since they had spent the day together in London, Lara had evidently made a point of avoiding the dorm at all costs. In retrospect, Sam supposed that it _had_ been tactless to push Lara to talk about what had been bothering her the way she had, but she'd only bothered prying in the first place because she was concerned. Was that really bad enough to warrant being blown off and ignored? Nothing about the situation made sense, and it really was a shame because Lara was the first person Sam had met at UCL with whom she shared almost all of her intellectual interests with. Most everyone else didn't even know who Jane Austen was, with Molly being the only outlier.

 _Speaking of…_ Sam thought to herself as she received a text from Molly and unlocked her phone to read it.

 _Beginning to wonder if you're still alive...lunch at Gordon's to catch up?_ Sam tapped her phone against her chin pensively. Just how long had it been since she and Molly had hung out? A couple of weeks, at least? She decided to rectify that, and immediately began drafting a response.

 _Sure! I'm done with classes for the day. Meet me there?_ She hit the 'send' button and, when Molly replied with an affirmative about a minute later, set about looking for her keys and purse. With those in tow, she exited the dorm building and began making her way across campus to Gordon's Cafe. Several minutes and a near-collision with a jogger later, she entered the crowded cafe and looked around to see if she could find Molly amongst the groups of students.

"Sam!" A familiar voice rang out above the clamor, and Sam turned her head in its direction to find Molly beaming at her from a table nearby.

"Hey!" Sam called out cheerfully, wriggling her way through the throng to get over to her.

"Long time, no see!" Molly remarked as they embraced before Sam took a seat across from her.

"Yeah, sorry about that…" Sam replied sheepishly, setting her purse down by her feet.

"Not a big deal, you're here now, right?" Sam nodded, "Then that's all that matters," Molly paused. "Anyways, before we get to talking about anything else, would you mind watching my bag while I go up to order? I wanted to be sure we had a table before getting something."

"Yeah, of course," Sam said.

"Great! You want anything while I'm up?" Molly asked as she got to her feet.

"Just a coffee and a breakfast panini… Wait! Lemme get my wallet!" Molly held a hand up as Sam undid the clasp to her purse.

"No need, it's on me," she interjected before promptly disappearing into the surrounding mob without giving Sam so much as a chance to open her mouth in protest. Shaking her head in disbelief, Sam went to put her purse back down on the ground when she felt her phone go off inside it. Curious, she pulled it out and checked the screen to see that her father had texted her. Feeling equal parts confused and trepidatious, she unlocked it to see what reason he could _possibly_ have for texting her. Had he found out that she was lying about studying business?

 _How are classes going? Are you staying out of trouble and keeping on top of everything?_ Sam bit her lip guiltily and deliberated over how, or if, she should respond. She knew how her father was, and she knew that he was not the type to waste time on idle chatter; he always had an ulterior motive. What if the text was a trick? An innocent facade for an excuse to scold her and slam her with the news that he was cutting off her trust fund as punishment for being a disgrace?

"Everything alright?" Molly had returned with their food and was regarding Sam with a concerned expression.

"Hm? Y-yeah," Sam stammered, quickly stowing her phone away and out of sight. Molly continued to scrutinize her with thinly veiled disbelief.

"You're still hung up on that girl back at home, aren't you?" Molly inquired gently.

 _Sure, let's go with that,_ Sam thought to herself. It wasn't as though Molly was necessarily wrong about that, anyhow. "Yeah, I am. But I'll have to get over it eventually, right?"

"Well, maybe I can help with that?" Molly offered, and Sam frowned in confusion.

"What?" She blurted out.

"I meant that I was planning on meeting up with some people after we finish here, and you're more than welcome to join us if you'd like? It might help get your mind off things, at least." Sam took a moment to consider Molly's proposal. What was the worst thing that could end up happening? She'd have fun for a change instead of waiting around for her rude and easily offended roommate?

"You know what?" Sam finally posed, "That sounds great, let's do it!" Molly grinned.

"In that case, want me to go up and grab some boxes so we can start heading over now? I don't know about you, but I've never been a fan of loud, cramped spaces personally." Sam shrugged indifferently.

"It honestly doesn't matter to me, I'm fine with whatever."

"In that case," Molly began, getting up to her feet once more, "I'll be back," she said before squirming her way up to the register and leaving Sam alone to listen to all the chatter around her.

"Yeah," one girl was saying, "I took one and it came back positive but those things aren't always accurate, right?"

"I hate Professor Barker, he already gave us a ten page paper to do! Like I don't have enough on my plate!" Another student to her right was complaining.

"Yeah, look at this article right here!" Yet another student behind her was saying, "They say Richard Croft's daughter is attending UCL, too! I wonder how nuts she is?" Sam frowned at this. The name 'Croft' sounded eerily familiar...where had she heard it before?

"Ready to go?" Molly had returned with their boxes and was already stowing her food away.

"Huh?" Sam muttered dreamily before snapping back to reality, "Oh! Yeah, sure!" She said quickly, hastily grabbing her sandwich and throwing it in her box before struggling out the door after Molly.

And then it hit her.

She barely remembered it because of how hungover she was at the time, but it was at her first English class that she heard the name 'Croft," and the more she thought about it…

Wasn't that Lara's last name?

* * *

 **Please don't kill me for doing that!**

 **You can find the soundtrack to Beginnings by either clicking the "Fic Soundtracks" icon on my tumblr page or by filling in the dots to the following link and entering it into your task bar: youtubecom/playlist?list=PLAj7hWeDX6MJnu5KIO748ikTUiWfRliHn**

 **You can find me under these usernames/handles on the following sites:**

 **Tumblr: LexCroftManor**

 **Twitter: LexCroftManor**

 **AO3: WhatTheSchmuck**


	9. Crazy Croft

**Here ya go, another piece of writing for you to devour before I sadistically take another 30+ days to submit something new! :D**

 **All feedback appreciated!**

 **The song for this chapter is You're Somebody Else by flora cash**

* * *

Lara's eyes left the beam.

Her eyes _never_ left the beam, especially in the middle of a flip when maintaining focus was of paramount importance. And yet…

There she was completely inverted, her legs parallel to the beam, and instead of keeping her full attention on the beam so as to make sure she stuck the landing, she let her attention be grabbed by something else. About five meters away, Catherine and Brittany were whispering to each other and very pointedly looking at her with derisive smirks on their faces. For what purpose, though?

Her foot landed on the very edge of the beam at that moment, and in spite of her flailing-arm attempts to regain her balance she fell. Red-faced, her pride hurting about as much as her knee and ankle, she blew her bangs out of her eyes and clambered onto her feet just in time to witness Catherine and Brittany _laughing_ at her.

"Lara!" Her coach barked, "Come here for a moment!" Resisting the urge to scowl at Catherine and hurl some choice profanity her way, Lara instead nodded obediently and sauntered shamefacedly over to where the coach stood.

"Something wrong, coach?" She asked when she made it over.

"I should be asking you the same thing," the coach snapped, adopting a gentler tone when she caught Lara wincing, "your form is normally flawless. What happened there?"

"I just…" Lara stammered, "I guess….I just lost focus."

"Any reason why in particular?" The coach inquired, and Lara merely shook her head in response. "Then get it together! I didn't make you an all-around competitor for inconsistency! If I see another fall like that, I'm pulling you out of practice before you get yourself hurt. Understand?"

"Yes coach…" Lara responded quietly.

"Then get back to it," the coach said before walking off to go check up on some of the other gymnasts' progress. Lara looked after her for a few moments before ultimately letting out a soft sigh and shuffling her way back over to the beam, her shoulders sagging in slight defeat.

"What was that about?" Came Lexie's voice from behind, and Lara turned her head to see the former making her way over from the vault.

"It was nothing," Lara replied as nonchalantly as she could, drawing herself up to full height and squaring her shoulders so as to give off a false air of confidence.

"You sure about that?" Lexie prodded uncertainly.

"Of course," Lara assured her calmly, "I just had a fall and the coach was making sure I was okay."

"You? Have a fall?" Lexie blinked in surprise, and all Lara could do was give a weak, embarrassed smile in response.

"Happens to the best of us," she finally remarked after a moment or two.

"Still," Lexie said, "I'm kind of upset I missed such a rare spectacle." That was enough to draw a small laugh out of Lara.

"I'll have to make sure you're watching the next time I wipe out, then," she said as she reached down to stretch out her legs, which had long since gotten tight again.

"So," Lexie began, "you excited about the upcoming competition?"

"Hm?" Lara murmured absentmindedly, her attention once more being seized by Catherine and Brittany, who both smiled falsely back at her when they caught her looking.

"They're such cunts," Lexie spat, her eyes following Lara's, "I wonder what they're planning that they look so pleased with themselves?" She scrunched her nose up in disgust.

"I don't know, but it's been bothering me, too," Lara admitted.

"You'd think they'd back down after Catherine's surprise nose job, y'know?" Lara's stomach turned as she recalled the sensation of flesh crunching beneath her fist.

"Too soon," she said quietly.

"Don't tell me you actually feel bad?" Lexie asked incredulously.

"I don't," Lara stated simply, "but it's not like I meant to do it, either."

"You can't deny it was pretty great, though," Lexie sniggered, only stopping when she caught the look on Lara's face. "Right. Sorry. I won't talk about it anymore." There was a brief pause. "You never answered me earlier, though."

"About what?" Lara responded in the most polite tone she could in spite of her sudden growing desire for the practice to be over so she could lose herself in a good book.

"The competition!" Lexie exclaimed, "Aren't you excited about being the only first year to compete?"

"On one hand, yes. On the other hand, I wish I didn't have to compete with Catherine…" Lara remarked dryly.

"It's not like you have to interact with her or anything," Lexie pointed out.

"No," Lara conceded, "but I know for a fact she's going to be out for revenge when I score higher than her."

"Confident, are we?" Lexie grinned, "I approve. It's not like you're wrong, either. Everybody knows you're a better gymnast."

"Everybody?" Lara stared at her in disbelief, "Then why did they vote for Catherine during our first week? Remember that?"

"Well…" Lexie began before her features morphed into an expression of pure horror, and she pointed at something behind Lara, "Uh-oh…" Lara shifted her gaze to where Lexie was pointing to see Paige making her way over to them.

"Shit…" Lara hissed under her breath.

"Hey guys," Paige said in a neutral tone when she finally came to a stop in front of them, "I couldn't help but notice you two standing here chatting, and Lara I don't want you to get in trouble and be banned from competing next week, so...just make sure you get back to practicing. Alright?" Lara and Lexie both blinked in surprise and exchanged a look with each other.

"Yeah, sure," Lexie said at length, "thanks for the heads up."

"No problem," Paige replied with a small smile before returning to her station to continue practicing. Not even a minute after she left, Lara saw the coach walk over to where Catherine and Brittany were still whispering to each other and start shouting at them.

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" Lexie asked as they both watched the scene unfold.

"That Paige is responsible?" Lara responded, looking over to where the third captain was practicing with a newfound respect for her.

"But why though?" Lexie wondered aloud.

"Because she's not a power-crazed tyrant like Catherine?" Lara offered, drawing a snort out of Lexie.

"Maybe," Lexie shook her head with a smirk still adorning her features. "Whatever her motivation is, we should probably heed her warning before the coach yells at us next."

"That would probably be best," Lara agreed, stepping up to the beam and preparing to mount it once more.

* * *

In spite of a rocky start, Lara felt as though the practice had ended on a relatively good note. The coach had, at least, thrown some praise her way after her earlier admonishment, and watching Catherine and Brittany get chewed out had its way of lifting one's spirits. The only problem was those two didn't seem to be even remotely perturbed by it; they looked as smug and self-satisfied as ever.

Lara only wished she knew for what reason.

Catherine and Brittany were definitely planning something, that much was certain. But just what, exactly? And did they seriously think she lacked the foresight to keep their blackmail photos in anticipation of such a scenario? No, something wasn't quite right…

Frowning pensively, she entered the locker room where most of her other teammates had already congregated, and sure enough, there were Catherine and Brittany at the other end, wearing the same false smiles they were earlier. Paying them as little mind as possible, she made an immediate beeline for her locker with the intention of emptying its contents and putting a lot of distance between herself and the two captains as quickly as possible.

"I wish they would stop smiling like that already," Lexie whispered from beside her, "it's seriously giving me the creeps."

"The only thing giving me the creeps is not knowing why they're doing it," Lara said as she began to put in the combination to her lock.

"You still have those photos, right?" Lexie asked uncertainly.

"Of course," Lara assured her as she pulled her locker open, "it's the only real leverage I have against those two." Lexie let out a sigh of relief.

"Then we shouldn't have anything to worry about, right? ...Lara?"

Lara wasn't even listening to her at that point. There, taped to the back of her locker, was an old newspaper article dating back to 2003. Headlining its yellow pages were the words: _Disgraced! Renowned Historian's Wild Claims Debunked_.

* * *

 **You can find the soundtrack to Beginnings by either clicking the "Fic Soundtracks" icon on my tumblr page or by filling in the dots to the following link and entering it into your task bar: youtubecom/playlist?list=PLAj7hWeDX6MJnu5KIO748ikTUiWfRliHn**

 **You can find me under these usernames/handles on the following sites:**

 **Tumblr: LexCroftManor**

 **Twitter: LexCroftManor**

 **AO3: WhatTheSchmuck**


	10. The Truth

**When the idiots in charge of canon material aren't doing things right, guess you gotta do it yourself! By the way, remember Sam NISHImura?! We do. And we never forget. #SaveOurSam #NotMyLara**

 **See the author note at the end of this chapter for an explanation of the absence of a chapter song.**

 **All feedback appreciated!**

* * *

Who is Lara Croft?

This was the only question reverberating through Sam's mind as Molly let them both

into her apartment. Was Lara really that Richard Croft person's daughter, and if so why did that make her so special? Sam kept deliberating over whether or not she should ask Molly about it, but always ultimately decided against it. She remembered how annoyed Lara got the last time she had attempted to pry into her personal business, even if it was out of genuine concern.

"Make yourself at home," Molly said setting her keys down on the counter, "the living room's through there; the others should be here shortly," she pointed at a doorway to their left before disappearing down a hallway in the opposite direction. Uncertain of what else to do, Sam followed Molly's suggestion and sauntered over to the living room couch, plopping down onto it and making herself at home as she grabbed the TV remote and started mindlessly flipping through the channels, not that there was anything good to watch.

"So," Molly boomed as she re-emerged from the hallway a few moments later, "Samantha. What. Is. Up?"

"Oh, you know, boring school stuff," Sam responded with a fake yawn.

"Gross," Molly grinned, taking a seat right beside her, "how are you liking the campus so far?"

"It's a bit overwhelming, honestly," Sam admitted, and Molly nodded in understanding.

"I felt the same way when I started last year. Do you like it other than that, though?" She asked.

"Of course!" Sam exclaimed, "It's a beautiful school, and I love my film class! Professor Bruzzi is awesome! The only thing is that I have this really stupid lab partner-I think her name's Catherine? Anyways, I think I might drop that class before the dumb bitch makes me fail."

"That bad, huh?" Molly asked, raising a brow.

"She set a trash can on fire," Sam said with a scowl, crossing her arms over her chest. Molly burst out into laughter.

"Bloody hell," she chortled, "how daft can you be?"

"That's what my roommate said," Sam sniggered before stopping abruptly at the thought of Lara. Thankfully, Molly seemed to be too distracted by the sudden knocking at her front door to notice Sam's behavior.

"One second," Molly said as she got to her feet and walked down the hall to answer it. Sam suppressed the urge to let out a sigh of relief and let herself sink deeply into the couch. A few moments passed in silence, and she felt herself begin to get concerned.

"Everything okay?" She called out to Molly down the hall.

"Yeah!" Molly bellowed back before reentering the room shortly thereafter with two new people in tow, "Sam, you've met Steph, right?" she asked, gesturing to a blonde female in a yellow polo beside her.

"I believe so," Sam replied, donning her best smile, "but I think I was very drunk at the time."

"We all were," Steph laughed.

"By the way," Sam added, "I think I have your sunglasses, you want them back?"

"You do?" Steph blinked, "I kinda just figured I lost them, do you have them with you?"

"They're back in my dorm," Sam said somewhat apologetically, "but I could run back and grab them?"

"Worry about it later," Steph replied, waving a hand in front of her dismissively, "they were a shitty pair anyways, so I'm not too worried about it. Let's just get them afterwards, what hall are you in?"

"Worry about that in a moment," Molly cut in, "I still haven't even introduced Alex yet."

"Hi," interjected a somewhat dorky, dark-haired guy with glasses at that point, awkwardly raising a hand in greeting, "I'm Alex."

"I'm Sam-"

"A total sweetheart I had the pleasure of discovering at a party during the first week of classes," Molly said, and Sam felt her face go hot.

"Shush," she said, "nice to meet you," she added, shaking Alex's hand.

"Alex is an absolute tech genius," Molly continued, "and my hook-up. Speaking of which, do you…?" Her voice trailed off as she looked at Alex and made some sort of weird gesture with her hand.

"Huh?" Alex blinked. "Oh! Yeah!" He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a ziploc bag that contained what Sam estimated to be about an eighth of weed.

"Excellent!" Molly beamed, "I'll go get Riptide."

"Riptide?" Sam asked confusedly the moment Molly disappeared behind her bedroom door.

"It's what she named her bong," Alex responded.

"Ah…"

"I also have two bowls named David Bowlie and Pot Benatar!" Molly's voice echoed from her room. Sam snorted.

"She's creative, I'll give her that," she remarked at length before clearing her throat, "so I know that Steph studies here...what about you, Alex?"

"Me? Yeah of course, I'm Molly's year."

"Alex and I are classmates," said Molly as she re-entered the room holding a blue glass bong that had a rippling design down its length. "He saved my ass a couple of times by knocking the online homework assignments offline so nobody could log in. The professor was forced to give _everybody_ extensions."

"Not that you need to go telling everybody that," Alex warned her.

"Ptuh," Molly scoffed, her eyes fixated on the purple grinder she had taken out as she began to pack some of her newly acquired product into it, "it's not like Sam and Steph are going to tell anyone."

"Still," Alex insisted.

"Oh loosen up, would you?" Molly sighed exasperatedly, "you're seriously killing my vibe."

"Yeah!" Sam agreed in a jokingly aggressive tone, "What's up, dude? You don't trust me or somethin'?!"

"I...that's not... _what_?!" Alex stammered, looking back and forth between Sam and Molly in apparent alarm.

"They're just yanking your dick, Alex…" Steph shook her head, "Molly, give him the first hit before he has a panic attack."

"I was already planning on it," Molly quipped, holding Riptide out to Alex, who looked more lost and confused than ever.

"I...oh, whatever," he pulled a lighter out of his pocket and took a long pull from the bong while everyone around him went to take a seat, sniggering all the while.

"Seriously Alex, you make it too easy to pick on you," Steph said, accepting the bong from Alex as he dissolved into a fit of coughing, "jeez, can't even handle your own product?"

"You…" Alex let out a particularly forceful cough, "you take a hit of that, then, and let's see how you handle it."

"Easy," Steph laughed, taking the lighter from Alex and taking a pull out of the bong for herself. She hadn't even cleared half of the smoke from it before she started coughing profusely.

"Oh come on, you're letting the smoke out!" Molly exclaimed, "Sam, quick! Clear it!"

"Huh?" Sam blinked, and next thing she knew the bong was being roughly passed to her and she quickly put her mouth to the mouthpiece inhaled the smoke still swirling around in its chamber. The bud tasted unusually sweet for weed, with a slightly pungent aftertaste. It was nothing like the stuff she used to smoke back at home, not even when she had lived in California.

"You took it better than those two," Molly chortled as Sam exhaled all the smoke she had filled her lungs with without coughing more than one or two times, "take another hit if you want since you got Steph's seconds." She very pointedly shifted her gaze into Alex and Steph's direction and playfully raised her voice, "since _some of us_ can't hang, you bloody lightweights!" Sam snickered and took another hit for herself.

"It's not the bud," Steph protested, "it's your piece! That thing rips like hell!"

"Isn't it great?" Molly laughed as Sam passed Riptide over to her, "this thing'll get you fried in five minutes, tops."

That turned out to not be too far from the truth, either. Three hits later, Sam found herself glued to the couch with a pleasant cerebral buzzing sensation emanating throughout her head. The food she had gotten to go from Gordon's turned out to be a godsend as she promptly wolfed it down within minutes. The others, meanwhile, mindlessly flipped through the TV, watching nothing in particular. Relaxed as she was, Sam's thoughts drifted dimly back to Lara once more, and her previously forgotten curiosity over her roommate's identity was piqued once more.

"Hey," she began, breaking the silence the existed between the four of them, "do you guys know who Richard Croft is?"

"Richard Croft?" Molly muttered vaguely before sitting up and regarding Sam with red, glassy eyes, "kind of hard to not know who the Crofts are when you're from Surrey. What do you want to know?"

"What's the big deal with them? I heard some people talking about Richard Croft in the cafe," Sam began innocently, "and I have a feeling that that's the type of stuff I should know if I'm gonna be living here for a while."

"Eh, not necessarily. They're just a bunch of stuffy nobles," Molly replied, "and Richard in particular was a historian, I believe."

"Isn't he the one who solved the mystery of the lost Roanoke colony?" Steph piped up out of the blue.

"Hell if I know," Molly retorted, "if he is, that was before he went all barmy."

"Barmy?" Sam cocked her head to the side and raised a brow in confusion.

"Sorry, I keep forgetting you Yanks use a bastardized version of our language," Molly laughed good-naturedly, "he was crazy. Absolutely off his rocker."

"How so?" Sam prodded further.

"Who cares?" Alex groaned, "I'm trying to watch TV…"

"Sod off, Alex, Sam's new to England," Molly snapped, "and to answer your question...towards the end he started spurting some nonsense about immortality, it was all over the press. It made for a delightful joke over Sunday supper, I'll tell you that much."

"Wow…" Sam mumbled absentmindedly before shaking her head to clear it, "but wait, 'towards the end'?"

"He killed himself after the release of an article publicly discrediting him," Molly stated simply, "some people say it was because he couldn't handle the shame. I say it's because the guy had serious mental issues."

"Holy shit, that's wild," Sam breathed out, thinking back to the last time her and Lara had hung out. Could it be that the controversial figure her roommate had been referencing was her own father? There was only one way to be certain. "What about his kids? Did he leave any behind?" Molly stopped to think.

"Just one. His daughter, Lara."

* * *

 **Hello all! I've decided to stop picking individual chapter songs because to put it bluntly, it was becoming too much extra thought and effort when writing the actual chapter and giving it a title is difficult enough. Plus I need to start streamlining my writing process and making it easier on myself if I want to start writing more even with my impending start date for college. So, I've converted the playlist into a playlist of songs that helped inspire me to write this fic so far.**

 **You can find the Beginnings playlist by either clicking the "Fic Soundtracks" icon on my tumblr page or by filling in the dots to the following link and entering it into your task bar: youtubecom/playlist?list=PLAj7hWeDX6MJnu5KIO748ikTUiWfRliHn**

 **You can find me under these usernames/handles on the following sites:**

 **Tumblr: LexCroftManor**

 **Twitter: LexCroftManor**

 **AO3: WhatTheSchmuck**


	11. Richard Croft's Daughter

**Friendly reminder that Roth was the father Lara deserved, not Richard "Dick" Croft. #NotMyLara**

 **All feedback appreciated!**

* * *

"Oh come on, Winston!" Lara pouted, "Just a bit longer, I've just gotten to a good part in my book."

"Now, now, you know the rules, my young Lady," Winston admonished, "it's time for your history lesson. Every head of the Croft household before has been well-versed in the history of their ancestry, and so will you."

 _Crack!_ Both Lara and Winston's heads shot up in surprise at the same moment. Just what was going on? It sounded as though a firecracker went off within the mansion.

"What was that? It sounded like it came from the direction of dad's study!" Lara exclaimed, tearing off in that direction.

"W-wait!" Winston shouted after her, pushing his old frame as hard as he could to keep up, "Lady Lara let me investigate it for y- I said stop!"

"Dad?" Lara asked as she pushed the towering wooden doors to her father's office open, "Dad, is everything alright?" She stopped dead in her tracks, finally taking in the sight before her. Her father was slumped lifelessly over the front of his desk, a still-smoking gun in his left hand and blood dripping from his head down onto a newspaper article headlined _Disgraced! Renowned Historian's Wild Claims Debunked_. "Dad?" She asked again even though she knew he wouldn't reply. Her breath and heart rate began to quicken, and she heard blood roaring in her ears.

"Good God!" Came a scream from Winston that sounded like a distant echo, "Somebody call for the authorities and an ambulance, quick!"

"...Dad?"

* * *

"Then we shouldn't have anything to worry about, right? ...Lara?"

Lara stared at the article taped to the back of her locker in a daze, not even taking in Lexie's words. The thing she had feared had indeed come to pass. Catherine had seen her biography page, and who knew who else had as well? Her cover was blown. She felt her heart start to race inside its bone cage, and whipped around with her teeth barred as Catherine came walking smugly through the door to the locker room.

"You _cunt_!" She spat, "This was you, wasn't it?! You did this! I should-"

"You should what?" Came the coach's voice from behind Catherine, "What exactly is going on here?"

"I have no clue, coach," Catherine said innocently.

"Don't you lie!" Lara fired at her, ripping the yellowed newspaper off the back of her locker and holding it up for Catherine and the coach to see, "You put this there, didn't you?!"

"What is that?" Lara was so blinded by rage at that point she balled the paper up in her hands and threw it aside. Then, she promptly grabbed her bag out of her locker and slammed it before storming out without giving Catherine or the coach a chance to say anything else. When she was about halfway to her dorm, she slumped against a nearby tree and held her face in one hand.

"...Shit!" She hissed into her palm. How was she supposed to face anyone on the squad or the coach after the way she had just behaved? It seemed like _she_ was the one with the behavioral problem, which was probably what Catherine had been going for from the beginning. _You damned idiot…_ she thought to herself. She was as good as off the team, she knew it. So what did she do from there? "...Damn it…" She didn't know.

But Roth would know.

With a sigh, she slid down along the trunk of the tree and came to a cross-legged sit in front of it as she pulled her phone out of her pocket. Then, she pressed the 1 on her speed dial and waited for it to ring.

"Lara?" Came Roth's voice after a couple of rings, "Calling again so soon? I thought you'd be too busy with school."

"What, I'm not allowed to call to chat every once in a while?" Lara asked with a weak laugh.

"Not that, just that it's not like you to do so this frequently. Something happen?" Lara exhaled heavily. Of course Roth would know; after she lost her mother and her father withdrew from everyone leading up to his suicide, both he and Winston were the only ones constantly looking after her growing up.

"Kind of," she admitted. There was a pause on the other end of the line.

"Well, out with it, girl. What's the matter?" Lara brushed her hair out of her face and scratched the back of her neck while she thought of where to begin.

"Old Deranged Dick," is what she went with.

"...I don't quite understand," Lara could almost picture Roth's brows knitting together in perplexion with the way he spoke through the phone.

"I can't escape him no matter how hard I try to, Roth," she finally admitted. "I just want to be Lara, but...all people ever see is Richard Croft's daughter, and they wonder how nuts I am-I can tell just by the way they look when I say my last name. I don't know what to do."

"But Richard Croft's daughter is part of who you are, lass. You can't escape it even if you try, I've told you this."

"Stop saying that," Lara blurted out in frustration. Roth let out a deep breath.

"I'm sorry, but it's the truth… What happened that brought this back up again, Lara? You seemed to be doing fine before, what about that roommate you get along with?" Lara's stomach sank.

"That's...a bit of a weird situation."

"Then you better start explaining it to me so I can help you." Lara held the bridge of her nose between her thumb and index finger.

"We just aren't getting along right now, and it's kind of my fault."

"I see," Roth remarked.

"Do you though?" Lara posed in response.

"No," Roth said, "but I'm sure it'll become clear to me if you continue." A corner of Lara's lip twitched upward.

"At least you're honest…" She closed her eyes and took a small breath, "Alright, you know how when you're part of a sport they put biography pages online?" Lara asked.

"Yes, I think so."

"Well, the coach included information on there-I have no clue how she found it-but she put information on there that I didn't provide on my questionnaire. I'm talking about mom and dad's names, where I went to school, everything."

"Does this have something to do with the problems you're having with your roommate?" Lara blinked in surprise. Had she become that predictable to Roth?

"...Yes, somewhat," she conceded. "I guess I was acting weird after I saw that because I was worried about people seeing it, and when we were out in the city she asked me if I was feeling alright and I responded rather...brashly."

"Well, did you apologize to her?" Roth's tone wasn't stern or disciplinary, just genuinely inquisitive.

"Not yet," Lara replied shamefully, "and it's not that I don't feel badly for it, I've just been so worried about people seeing that biography and realizing who my father is, what he did, and…" she sighed, "Anyways, I finished practice today, and you remember that old article discrediting dad that was in the post? An old copy of that was taped to the back of my locker and I went ballistic and the coach saw, so I'm pretty sure I'm off the team." Roth mumbled something, "What was that?"

"Nothing...Lara, why do you care so much if people know who your father is? Are you ashamed?"

"I'm a lot of things, Roth," Lara responded dryly, "he embarrassed me with his rants about that stupid research of his, ignored me so he could focus on said research, and then abandoned me. Why would I ever want to be associated with that man?"

"Because he's your father, and nothing you do can change that," Roth stated bluntly, "if you don't want people to think you're like Dick, prove you're nothing like him and stop hiding."

"You don't think I've been trying to do that?" Lara demanded, "I've been trying to but still it's all about Crazy Dick Croft's daughter. How can I be myself if people won't even see me?" Her tone was almost desperately pleading by that point.

"You haven't been trying to do that, though. You just said you were worried about people seeing that biography, and you don't realize you're acting exactly like your father by avoiding your problems and hiding them away." _That_ stung just enough to silence Lara for the moment, "People do see you, that's what you're not understanding. You're so focused on hiding your past and who you are that you're not noticing the signs around you, and I've noticed this tendency in you before. Your roommate is a great example of this; you were so fixated on the possibility of people finding out who you really are that you didn't even notice her concern for you at the time. Not concern for Richard Croft's daughter, but you."

Lara didn't even know how to respond to that, partially because she knew that everything Roth was saying had some element of truth to it.

"And I know for a fact there are other people at that school who care about Lara for Lara," Roth continued, "so just surround yourself with those types of people. And if others only see Richard's daughter? Fuck 'em. Just prove you're nothing like him. Isn't that why you damn near gave Winston a heart attack and refused your trust fund?" Roth chuckled to himself, "You really did stun the wrinkly old codger." In spite of herself, Lara allowed a small smile to creep upon her face.

"Yeah, I guess I did…"

"But do you see what I'm saying, lass? You're spending so much time and energy pushing people away and isolating yourself when, if anything, _that_ is exactly the type of thing Dick would have done. It _is_ what he did. If you really resent the man that much, don't base your actions off of him. Base your actions off of yourself. You see what I'm saying?"

"Yeah," Lara breathed out, "I do."

"And as for the gymnastics situation, as soon as we get off the phone I want you to immediately try to find the coach and explain your side of what happened. Other people were there, right? If so, perhaps they can try to help explain as well. You understand?" Lara nodded even though she knew he wouldn't be able to see it.

"Yeah...thanks, Roth."

"Anytime, girl. I have to go now, the crew needs me. Try to stay out of any further trouble, yeah?"

* * *

Lara tried to follow Roth's advice following the end of their phone call, but by the time she got back to the athletic complex the gymnastics team had already vacated the premises. Since she had to work a shift at the Nine Bells later that night, she decided that she would have to resolve her latest Catherine situation later and get ready for work, which of course meant doing her school work first.

And, perhaps, if Sam was there maybe she'd try to make plans to go out together so she could apologize for behaving like a royal arse. Her mind made up, she made her way back to her dorm hall with stone cold resolve and walked up the steps to her floor. She inserted her keys into the lock, let herself into the room, and took a good look around.

No sign of Sam. Well, that worked out just fine since she needed a shower anyways. She set her keys down on her desk, and her gymnastics bag right beside it, and made her away over to the bureau next to her bed to pull out her work clothes and a towel. With those in tow, she walked into the bathroom and locked the door behind her, setting the shower water to a hot temperature setting and stripping off her sweaty layers.

When she had cleansed herself of all evidence of the day's physical exertion, she turned the water off, stepped out, and quickly toweled herself off before getting dressed again in her fresh clothes. Then, she reemerged into the room, disposed of her dirty clothes in the hamper, and immediately set about working on her coursework. Halfway through her history reading assignment, she heard a familiar voice outside followed by the sound of the door being unlocked. She immediately closed her textbook and turned to face Sam, who stopped in her tracks as she entered when she saw Lara waiting there. A moment or two passed in silence as they stared at each other, each person not knowing what to say to the other.

"...Hi," Lara began awkwardly, breaking the silence.

"...Hi…" Sam began rather slowly, "I wasn't expecting to catch you in here." Lara winced internally.

"Yeah," she began, "that's...kind of my fault." Sam blinked in surprise.

"No, I mean I get it. I guess I was being a little nosey."

"Hang on-" Lara began before a third voice cut her off.

"Is that your roommate? Oh, I wanna meet her!" Came a voice from the hallway which evidently belonged to a blonde female, who peeked her head inside before frowning pensively. "Hang on, I didn't know this was your roommate! Is that why you were asking about Richard Croft earlier?"

When Lara and Sam's eyes locked in that instant, the mixed expression of pure mortification and guilt on Sam's face told Lara all she needed to know.

* * *

 **You can find the Beginnings playlist by either clicking the "Fic Soundtracks" icon on my tumblr page or by filling in the dots to the following link and entering it into your task bar: youtubecom/playlist?list=PLAj7hWeDX6MJnu5KIO748ikTUiWfRliHn**

 **You can find me under these usernames/handles on the following sites:**

 **Tumblr: LexCroftManor**

 **Twitter: LexCroftManor**

 **AO3: WhatTheSchmuck**


	12. The Confrontation

**The writing Gods have heard your pleas and bless you with a great bounty of fanfiction this month, my beloved readers! Enjoy! :)**

 **All feedback appreciated! Seriously, that stuff keeps me motivated to keep pumping away at this. I appreciate y'all**

* * *

"Wait Lara, it's not-" Sam began as Lara quickly got to her feet.

"Not what?" Lara demanded aggressively, "Not the way it seems? You were just curious, right? Why can't people just mind their own damned business?!" Sam stepped in her way in an attempt to bar her exit.

"You don't understand, I-"

"I gotta go," Lara spat, "I have a shift at the Nine Bells." She pushed past both Sam and Steph and stormed out of the dorm. Sam stood there helplessly all the while, watching her go and listening to the sounds of her retreating footsteps.

 _You don't understand, I know exactly how you must feel with all the scrutiny…_ she thought despondently to herself. She shook her head to clear it and scowled over at Steph, "Steph, _what the hell_?!"

"I didn't realize it would cause such a big issue," Steph replied, raising her hands up in front of her defensively.

"Of course it would!" Sam exclaimed, throwing her hands up exasperatedly, "It's exactly the same as if-" she stopped mid-sentence, and her stomach sank as she suddenly realized her own hypocrisy.

" _You wouldn't happen to be the same Nishimura as the owner of Nishimura Corporation?"_

" _Yup...that's my dad…"_

"Jesus Christ…" She blurted out, slapping a hand to her forehead. "You know what? Nevermind, lemme just get your sunglasses for you," she said, making for her desk and pulling Steph's sunglasses out of one of the drawers.

"Wait, but-" Steph stammered as Sam handed her glasses to her.

"It's fine," Sam said in a monotone as she turned Steph around.

"I didn't mean to-" Steph continued as Sam guided her to the door and showed her the way out.

"I get it, but I'm really stoned and I need to fix this right now so let's talk about this later, 'kay?" She closed the door behind Steph before leaning back against it exhaustedly while she evaluated the current situation. If Lara had been angry at her before for getting too personal, Sam figured she might as well be dead to her roommate at that point. "...Fuck!" She shouted after a little while, and she kicked over a pile of books right beside her desk before crumpling to the floor and squeezing her eyes shut to think. What was she going to do? It wasn't like she could talk to Molly or anyone at UCL about the situation without further drawing Lara's wrath. Steph had proven that. Besides which point, how many people knew her well enough to understand her own side of the situation?

Her eyes snapped open. There _was_ one person she could talk to, but how did she know that the person in question would even respond to her? Regardless, she pulled her smartphone out of her pocket and opened up the Facebook app. Then, she scrolled through her friends list until she found the name 'Jessica Burgess'. She hit the message icon and began typing.

 _Jess, I know what you said about distancing ourselves from each other until we're over the breakup, but I promise that this has nothing to do with that. I just need someone to talk to and I feel like you're the only one who understands me well enough to give me some good advice._ She hit the 'send' button and waited, not that she really expected Jess to respond. Much to her surprise, however, she saw the typing indicator pop up for Jess in the message box shortly thereafter.

 _I'm here, what's up?_ Jess replied. In spite of her current level of distress, Sam couldn't help but feel a smile creep upon her face. That's right, even if they couldn't be together, her and Jess would always have each other's backs.

 _I seriously fucked up_ , Sam typed back.

 _In what way?_ Came Jess's query. Sam tapped her phone against her chin and thought of where to begin.

 _So, I know this is gonna sound crazy, but I became friends with an English noble and she's actually my roommate. Remember how pissed I'd always get when people would ask about my dad or bring up his company? Well, this chick is kind of in the same boat, long story short her dad is apparently a nutcase and I made the mistake of looking into who she is and now she's pissed at me. What do I do?_ The typing indicator for Jess popped up and disappeared several times before she finally seemed to settle on a response.

 _If she's in the same boat as you, just find her and apologize and let her know that you understand the way she feels. Isn't it obvious?_ Sam bit her bottom lip pensively before replying.

 _Do you mean find her right now? Shouldn't I give her some space or something first? She's REALLY pissed._

 _No,_ Jess responded before adding: _the longer you wait, the more pissed she's probably gonna get. That's if she's anything like you get when people bring up Dickhead._ Sam snorted at Jess's use of their favorite nickname for her father.

 _Fair point...thanks Jess_. She locked her phone and pocketed it, deliberating over her next move. Lara had just said she had a shift at the Nine Bells, so perhaps if Sam was fast enough she could catch up to her roommate and get her to hear her out. Time was of the essence, in that case. She pulled her phone back out and searched for 'The Nine Bells' in her Google Maps app to find that it was about a twenty minute walk. Lara already had about a ten minute head start on her, so she had to run if she was going to have any hope of catching up.

"Well shit…" Sam whispered to herself, getting to her feet and letting herself out of the dorm room. When she was a little younger, she'd gotten herself into a tight spot or two when the police had busted a party she was at. She couldn't remember another time where she had to demonstrate such prowess in terms of speed and parkour. At one point, she had to climb down from a third story balcony and run two miles to avoid getting an underage. Compared to that, she felt as though chasing Lara down would be a piece of cake.

The moment she set foot outside the dorm hall, she started sprinting at full speed with her phone held out in front of her so she could track where she was supposed to go. Admittedly, she was a tad less fit than she used to be as a freshman or sophomore in high school in the absence of her mom's mandated fitness program that comprised of yoga and cardio. That was evidenced by the burning sensation she began to feel in her sides. Left, right, left, right, she kept pounding away on a mixture of grass and pavement regardless, desperate to head her roommate off and fix the mess she'd created before it was too late.

 _Why do I even care?_ Said a voice at the back of her head, and she felt herself slow down ever so slightly. Why did she care? It wasn't like she'd known Lara for a while, and for all Sam knew she could turn out to be an awful person even if she managed to patch things up for the time being.

 _It's because she's like me_ , said another, more confident voice in her mind. She knew why Lara was so quiet and touchy about her personal life: isolation and secrecy were far preferable to living life in someone else's shadow. It's for that reason that Sam herself never made many friends in high school. She went out and partied a lot, and hosted a fair number of parties herself, sure, but none of those people were actually her friends. She thought they were at the time, but somewhere along the line she realized that the real reason they hung out with her was because they knew she was the rich girl in school. She was the one with the nice house, the fancy cars, the designer clothing, the big swimming pool...

Rich little Samantha Nishimura always had everything she wanted, or so everybody thought. But for all her material possessions, she never felt any less miserable. Her peers only saw her as an object to be exploited. Her father never viewed her as his daughter, only an heir. And her mother, while good intentioned, was irrevocably ditsy and absent-minded and never had the time for her. It was for all those reasons that she had decided to go to school out-of-country in the first place: she thought that maybe, just maybe, if she put a whole ocean between herself and her family, people would see her for who she was and not as Hisao Nishimura's daughter. Which is why she made sure that nobody _knew_ she was Hisao Nishimura's daughter.

Much like how Lara made sure nobody knew she was a Croft. Sam's stomach churned guiltily, and she began pounding away on the city sidewalks with renewed vigor. She bobbed and weaved in and out between pedestrians who cried out in surprise as she came barreling by, keeping an eye out for Lara's long, flowing ponytail as she did.

"Hey! Croft!" She gasped out as loudly as she could when she finally saw Lara up ahead of her, "Stop!" Lara didn't stop, however. If anything, her pace quickened so as to get away from Sam. "Damnit, I said stop!" Sam shouted with the little breath she had left in her lungs, finally catching up to Lara and grabbing her by the shoulder to spin her around to talk.

"Get off of me," Lara snarled, batting Sam's hand away, but she had stopped moving for the time being. Sam doubled over to catch her breath, balling her hands up into fists.

"What the hell is your problem?!" She demanded in between breaths, feeling hot sweat trickle down her face and back.

"What's _your_ problem?!" Lara fired back.

"Don't deflect from the question!" Sam spat, finally having taken in enough air to draw herself up to full height.

"I'm not deflecting!" Lara exclaimed angrily, "You're the one who can't mind her own damn business!"

"I'll admit that it was wrong of me to pry into your personal life like that," Sam conceded, wiping the sweat from her brow, "but I'm going to tell you again: it's not for the reason you think it is."

"Oh by all means, I'd love to hear what excuse a spoiled little rich girl like you can conjure up!" Lara snapped. _That_ struck a nerve.

"Wow," Sam began, shaking her head angrily, "yeah, you know what? I may be a fucking spoiled rich girl, but do you know why that is, _do you_?!" Lara opened her mouth to respond, but Sam held a hand up to silence her, "No, you shut the hell up for a moment. Lemme tell you something, you may think you're all alone in this world, that nobody understands you, but that's not the case. Do you even know who I am?" Again, Lara opened her mouth again to try to reply but Sam stopped her, "No. Of course you don't. Because you're too busy sitting on your high horse and judging people to even have an open conversation with someone. God, you really are a fucking noble."

"How dare yo-!" Lara began.

"Good, you're pissed," Sam interjected, "now you know how it feels to be called a spoiled little rich girl by someone who doesn't even know me." She crossed her arms across her chest, "Lemme ask you something, are you familiar with Nishimura Corporation?"

"Everybody is," Lara retorted coolly, "they're one of the largest media conglomerates in the world."

"Yeah, well guess what? The CEO, Hisao Nishimura? That's my dad."

* * *

 **You can find the Beginnings playlist by either clicking the "Fic Soundtracks" icon on my tumblr page or by filling in the dots to the following link and entering it into your task bar: youtubecom/playlist?list=PLAj7hWeDX6MJnu5KIO748ikTUiWfRliHn**

 **You can find me under these usernames/handles on the following sites:**

 **Tumblr: LexCroftManor**

 **Twitter: LexCroftManor**

 **AO3: WhatTheSchmuck**


	13. Swing

**I did another thing, look at me being a productive lil writer even though I started classes!**

 **All feedback appreciated!**

* * *

Lara stared straight ahead at Sam in shock. Hisao Nishimura's daughter? _That_ Hisao Nishimura? The same one who would rather lay off hundreds of workers than raise wages in compliance with regional law?

"Bullshit," she blurted out with a frown, "there's no way." This only served to further anger Sam, who roughly shoved a hand into her pants pocket and pulled out what appeared to be a plain leather wallet.

"You want fucking proof?" She demanded, flipping it open, "here's my license and the ID card I use to get into his studio." She pulled those two things out and held them so close to Lara's face, she had to lean back to see what they said. Sure enough, on the left was a New York State driver's license that said 'Samantha Nishimura' on it, and had Sam's picture right next to that. On the right was a red identification card that said at the very top 'Nishimura Corporation' and 'New York' right underneath it, along with Sam's name and her photo as well.

"I suppose it looks real," she admitted quietly. Either Sam was telling the truth, or she was really good at making fake IDs.

"That's because it _is_ real," Sam spat frustratedly, "why would I be lying about something like this? Why would I _want_ to be related to my dad?!" Lara supposed she had a point, and felt immediately guilty for everything she had said to that point.

"I-" she began, but Sam shook her head disgustedly and put her wallet back into her pocket.

"I don't know why I'm wasting my time, you _still_ think I'm lying. Forget it, what do I know?" She said, turning on the spot and throwing her hands up in the air, "I'm just a 'spoiled rich girl', after all." She started to walk away.

"Sam, wait!" Lara pleaded, one hand outstretched in front of her. Sam stopped mid-stride and turned around to regard Lara impatiently.

"What?" she said angrily.

"I didn't mean that, I was angry, I just-" Lara looked down at her watch and let out an exasperated sigh, "I'm going to be late for work, can we please do this after?"

"I'll think about it," Sam replied coolly, and then she walked off without another word, leaving a stunned Lara standing there all alone in the middle of a busy sidewalk.

 _What if Sam is actually telling the truth?_ Lara thought to herself. Supposing that was the case: that Sam was genuinely concerned that one day in London, that Sam was actually Hisao's daughter, what did that mean? That the fact Lara was a Croft didn't matter to her? That she was someone who genuinely wanted to be a friend? What did it mean, then, that Sam was now mad at her? _I need to talk to her as soon as possible,_ Lara decided, remembering Sam's words from just a little bit ago.

" _...Lemme tell you something, you may think you're all alone in this world, that nobody understands you, but that's not the case."_

No matter how big or small, there was a chance that Sam was someone who genuinely understood how Lara felt. How long would it be until Lara encountered someone else like that, considering Sam was possibly the first? It wasn't worth chancing it. The more she thought about it, the more she remembered how open and inviting Sam had been right from the beginning. She had also been very respectful of boundaries, in general, up until that one day in London. Lara found herself wondering whether or not it was possible for all that to have been a lie, when she suddenly realized something.

She really was behaving like her father.

* * *

"Damnit, Dick!" Roth growled, slamming a hand down on her father's desk, "You can't just continue avoiding Lara like this! She's your daughter, for Christ's sake!"

"You don't understand," Richard said so quietly that Lara almost couldn't hear from where she hid behind one of the towering wooden doors that was cracked open, "every time I look at her, I-"

"I know you miss Amelia, Dick. But Lara is still your child, it's not healthy for her to grow up like this and it's not healthy for you to avoid her just because she reminds you of-"

"I'm _not_ going to be told how to handle raising _my own damn daughter!_ " Richard raised his voice at Roth before clearing his throat and resuming more quietly, "I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

"Richard, you-?!" Roth began before he was promptly cut off.

"I'm not going to ask again," Richard said dangerously. Roth paused for a moment, then sighed and shook his head before turning on the spot and leaving.

* * *

They hadn't known at the time that Lara was listening, but she heard everything. She knew that the reason her father constantly avoided her was because she looked too much like her mother. It was roughly around after she had heard that exchange that she started wearing her hair up in a ponytail instead of let down. It got her father to talk to her again for a brief period, but in the end it always ended up the same way.

Richard Croft: always avoiding, always emotionally distant, always refusing to trust or listen to anyone. Lara didn't want to be anything like that man; she needed talk to Sam as soon as she could. But for the time being-

"Shit!" Lara exclaimed when she looked down at her watch, drawing a few glares from some elderly passersby. She was so lost in her train of thought that she nearly forgot she had to get to work. She immediately turned around and started lightly jogging to the Nine Bells. If she was lucky, she'd only be a few minutes late for her shift.

As it turned out, she was only a minute late but she still made a point of apologizing profusely to Wilson, her boss, all the same. Not that he was really worried about it considering he had an employee not show up earlier in the day, and was simply happy to get some reprieve. After quickly clocking in and washing her hands off, Lara took up her position behind the bar and started to work her way through the crowd that had amassed on the other side.

Swamped as she was with taking orders, mixing drinks, and removing used pint glasses, she had little time for indulging her thoughts until her shift finally, mercifully ended. As she walked back down the same sidewalk Sam had confronted her on just hours before and pocketed her considerable wad of tip money, she wondered how she was going to handle the situation at hand. After all, it wasn't as though Sam was unjustified in being angry with her, assuming she was actually Hisao Nishimura's daughter.

 _She_ is _Hisao Nishimura's daughter,_ Lara had to remind herself firmly. It was the only explanation that made sense when she tried to rationalize Sam's actions earlier. Unless Sam had known from the start she was a Croft and just wanted to get Lara to let her guard down? _Stop that!_ Lara mentally berated herself. For once she was going to have to let herself trust someone else's word.

Her feet were heavier than usual as she ascended the steps to her floor in the dorm hall, and her hands were cold with dread. What was she going to say to Sam if she was there? What _could_ she say to make her roommate less angry at her? She paused in front of her door, keys in hand, and hesitated. She could just walk away, and not deal with it. She could just avoid Sam until the end of the term the way she had been for the past week or two. They'd never need to talk again.

Then she remembered the way her father used to avoid her, and she inserted her keys into the lock with newfound resolve. She let the door slowly slide open, stepped in, pulled her keys out, and finally looked up as it swung shut behind her. Sam was looking up as well from where she sat on her bed, regarding her with suspicious, narrowed eyes. They sat there in stone cold silence for several minutes, and Lara sauntered over to where her desk was and sat on the edge of it, unconsciously thumbing the jade magatama that hung around her neck. Then, she started speaking without really knowing what words were coming out of her mouth.

"You know…" she began, holding the pendant flat in her palm and looking down at it, "I found this thing on a dig with my father when I was only five years old. It was my first find, in fact." She smiled softly to herself for a moment before assuming a more somber expression and continuing, "Of course, my father was too busy to be bothered with seeing what I dug up, so I showed it to his friend, Roth, instead, and he put it on one of his leather bootlaces so I could wear my new find and show it off," she sighed to herself, "I often wonder if I would have loved archaeology as much as I do now if not for the fact my parents exposed me to it so much. Everybody else seems to think so, but anytime I look down at this thing," she pointed at the magatama, "it reminds me of how excited I was when I found it, and that I really am going into archaeology because I love it."

Sam had closed her laptop, which had been sitting on top of her lap, by that point and had swung to a sit on the edge of her bed to listen more intently. When she didn't say anything, Lara licked her lips and continued speaking while she still felt able to.

"People always think that because I'm studying archaeology, and because my last name happens to be Croft, I'm doing it to follow in my father's footsteps. And it always angers me that people only see me as my father's daughter instead of as my own person, doing the thing I love because I want to, not because my father also happened to do it." She pursed her lips and looked directly into Sam's eyes at that point, "I can only imagine how things were for you growing up. I'm sorry for judging you the way I did, I truly am." She let go of the jade pendant and let it flop back into place where it hung from around her neck and let her gaze drift down to her floor. Much to her bewilderment, Sam started _clapping_ , of all things.

"There you go!" She exclaimed in fake excitement as she continued to applaud Lara, "That's how you have an open conversation with someone!"

"I...wot?" Lara raised a brow in confusion.

"Relax," Sam said, setting her laptop aside and getting back up to her feet, "I'm not angry. At least, not anymore. I was thinking about it when I got back, and I understand why you reacted the way you did. And getting an apology helps."

"You're...not mad?" Lara repeated slowly.

"Not anymore," Sam reiterated, "and before you ask, yes I accept your apology. I don't know about you, but I'm kind of relieved the cat's finally out of the basket and I can start being my real self around someone. What do you say to starting all over and reintroducing ourselves-our real selves-to each other?" She asked, holding a hand out.

"...Alright…" Lara agreed hesitantly, stretching a hand out to take Sam's.

"I'm Sam," Sam smiled cheekily as she shook Lara's hand, "Sam Nishimura. Wanna go dancing?"

* * *

 **You can find the Beginnings playlist by either clicking the "Fic Soundtracks" icon on my tumblr page or by filling in the dots to the following link and entering it into your task bar: youtubecom/playlist?list=PLAj7hWeDX6MJnu5KIO748ikTUiWfRliHn**

 **You can find me under these usernames/handles on the following sites:**

 **Tumblr: LexCroftManor**

 **Twitter: LexCroftManor**

 **AO3: WhatTheSchmuck**


	14. Screw your courage to the sticking place

**More food for the starving gays, dig in my beloved readers!**

 **All feedback appreciated!**

* * *

For the first time that semester after a night of partying Sam didn't wake up with a hangover, let alone wake up in an unusual place. In fact, the previous night was probably the most amount of fun she'd had in a long time. After her and Lara had finally talked their issues out and made up, they ended up going to a massive party off-campus. Lara, being as shy as she was, had taken to hugging the walls at first but Sam wasn't having any of that. After she had gotten a round of shots for them apiece and got Lara nice and marinated, she helped her roommate tap into her inner party animal.

And by God, was Lara Croft a closet party animal-and the most _incredible_ dancer Sam had ever seen. The moment Wearing My Rolex had come on the stereo system, Lara went _off_. Her limbs all appeared to be moving independently, yet still as a united whole as she started busting out moves Sam had _never_ expected to see out of someone who was supposed to be a member of the English nobility. She made a mental note to ask her normally reserved roommate where she had learned to move so well. Not that she had to wait too long to do so as the phone alarm she had forgotten to turn off from the previous day rang. Lara groaned in protest as she came to.

"Shit, sorry!" Sam squeaked as she scrambled to turn it off, dropping her phone in the process and debatably making even more noise than her alarm was. Finally, she retrieved her phone from where it lay on the floor and swiped across the screen to turn the alarm off, but it was already too late. Lara was wide awake at that point. "So...uh...good morning, sunshine?"

"Mmh…" Lara grunted, clumsily groping for her phone on her nightstand to check the time, "oh hell, it's already eleven…?"

"You have anywhere you need to be?" Sam asked, feeling guilty all of a sudden for having not asked before getting Lara wasted the night before.

"Not necessarily," Lara's eyes watered as she yawned, "I was just planning to get to the library to-"

"It's Saturday. Forget the library," Sam scoffed, "you worry too much about your academics."

"And that's a bad thing?" Lara asked, rubbing the sleep from her eyes and sitting up slightly.

"It is when you're eighteen years old-"

"Seventeen," Lara cut in.

"What?"

"I'm seventeen years old," Lara corrected her, and Sam regarded her for a few moments.

"Wait...but...I thought the drinking age is eighteen in the U.K.?"

"Oh it is," Lara assured her, "but you had already ordered the drinks at that point so what was I going to do?" Sam felt a smile creep upon her face.

"Paint the picture however you want. Just admit that deep down you know how to have a good time-speaking of which! Where the heck did you learn to dance so well?" Sam demanded, and Lara scratched the back of her neck sheepishly.

"Come again?" She asked innocently. When Sam pulled up a video she had taken of Lara dancing on her phone and showed it to the latter, however, her cheeks instantly went red, "Ah, it's a bit embarrassing actually...when I was a bit younger, I was sent to dance classes to help with gymnastics." Sam frowned.

"What does dancing have to do with gymnastics?" Lara was scratching the back of her neck so vigorously at that point, Sam thought she was going break skin soon.

"Ever seen a gymnast do a floor routine? It requires the performer to combine the artistry of dance with acrobatics." Sam started to grin mischievously.

"Sounds like my type of sport."

"What was that?" Lara blinked.

"Nothing," Sam replied quickly, "seriously though, that's not embarrassing! That's actually pretty cool, you _have_ to teach me some moves!" Lara's face was as red as a tomato by that point.

"I-I'll...I'll think about it," she remarked at length, "I'm a bit mortified that I even _did_ that last night."

"Why?" Sam raised a brow at her, "You had fun didn't you?"

"Well, yes," Lara conceded bashfully, "but I don't typically like to draw that much attention to myself."

"Well you did," Sam said, "and you sure as hell _owned_ it. I'm serious, you should be _proud_! I know I was standing there drunkenly saying 'Yo! That's my roommate tearing it up over there!'" That finally got Lara to let out a small laugh, "See? There we go! I'm taking that laugh as a sign of your reluctant agreement."

"Take it however you want," Lara finally said, heaving herself out of bed and walking over to her chest of drawers.

"You're seriously going to go to the library on a weekend?" Sam asked incredulously as Lara rifled through her clothes to find something to wear.

"Wanna come with?" Lara offered, and Sam paused.

"Come with? To the _library_?"

"Yeah," Lara replied, shrugging, "we have that written exam coming up in our Lit class." In spite of herself, Sam stopped to consider Lara's offer. Her grade in Literature up to that point was still less than satisfactory in spite of her best efforts. Perhaps Lara could actually help her?

"Could we at least get something to eat?" Sam asked, and Lara froze where she was, t-shirt in hand.

"Oh right, I guess we should probably do that," she said, as though food was an afterthought. Sam had to resist the urge to laugh.

 _That explains why she's so skinny,_ she thought to herself, _she's so engrossed in her schoolwork she forgets to eat_. "Alright," she finally declared, getting to her feet and looking for something suitable to wear, "I accept your invitation to accompany you to the…" she gave an over exaggerated shudder, " _library_." She pretended to retch.

"Funny," Lara mused, "you should be an actress."

"No thanks," Sam retorted, "they demand that actresses be a certain weight and I like potato chips too much, so…" she shrugged dismissively.

"Fair enough," Lara replied, going to the bathroom to change. Sam frowned as she began to disrobe. Lara was on the gymnastics squad; shouldn't she be used to getting changed in front of other people in the locker room? She knew Lara was shy and a little awkward, but to what extent? "Alright," Lara said, re-emerging as Sam pulled her head through her shirt collar.

As Lara went about gathering her books and study materials, Sam couldn't help but indulge in some ogling. Realistically, there should be no reason for Lara to feel self-conscious with a body like that. Up close as she was, the lean tone to Lara's arms was thrown into full relief, along with the shapeliness of her curves. Sam had to shake her head to clear it, reminding herself that Lara was her roommate, and she probably didn't play for the same team anyways. Abandoning her shameless gawking, she instead went about gathering her class materials as well.

"So where should we go to grab a bite to eat?" Sam asked as she put her laptop in her bag and coiled up its charger, "I'd suggest Gordon's but that place is usually pretty crowded." Lara frowned thoughtfully.

"There's this place I went to on move-in day with my fath- well, you know what I mean," Lara quickly corrected herself mid-sentence. Sam raised a curious brow but didn't press Lara for an explanation. She knew by that point that if Lara wanted to tell her something, she'd do so of her own accord. "Anyways, it's an old sandwich shop but I saw breakfast items on their menu so we could try that? It's not too far away." Sam took a moment to think on Lara's suggestion.

"Yeah that works," she agreed, slinging her bag onto her shoulders, "let's go."

They exited the dorm together and began to walk down Tavistock Square. As they did, endless questions began to swirl around Sam's head and she found herself having to bite her tongue to keep from blurting one out. She had just found out the previous day that her and Lara shared a fairly similar lifestyle, and yet there was one thing in particular that was bothering her the more she thought about it.

"Hey," she finally began as they came to a stop before a crosswalk, "could I possibly ask you something without you getting mad?"

"It depends," Lara said evenly, looking down the street both ways.

"So, you're technically part of the British nobility, right?" Sam posed as they crossed the street together.

"Technically, yes," Lara replied simply.

"So why go through all the effort? Why work a job, pay out of pocket, come to school with barely anything?" Lara let out a sigh, and for a moment Sam was worried that she had overstepped her boundaries once more. Much to her surprise, however, Lara began to speak very calmly.

"Well, for starters British estate laws prevent minors from accessing their inheritance-"

"Well couldn't you just have your mo-? ...Oh," Sam knew that Lara's father was a little out there and had committed suicide, which was probably why she never bothered to mention him. But when she started to think about it, Lara had also never made mention of her mother. Was it possible that…?

"It's alright, you didn't know," Lara reassured her before letting out a soft sigh, "my mom died in a plane crash when I was very young, so it's just me." Sam felt her insides squirm guiltily and bit her bottom lip.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-"

"Like I said, you didn't know," Lara repeated, "anyways, to finish answering your question: even if I could access my inheritance, I don't want to. Quite simply put, I'd rather be known for earning my own way through life rather than riding off my family name and fortune. Last thing I want to do is do things the same way as my father when people already endlessly compare me to him, something I'm sure you probably understand."

"I mean, on one hand I understand being compared to your dad," Sam began, "but honestly? My dad is such a shithead that I'm more than happy to let him pay for my education. He owes me that much. Doesn't mean I'm going to study business and take over his stupid business for him, though." She shrugged indifferently, "don't get me wrong, I think it's admirable to do things your own way and everything but I personally don't think it matters how you get wherever you wanna go as long as you eventually make it. I wanna be a filmmaker, and I'll happily use my dad's money to help catapult me into that career."

"It doesn't bother you owing your father for your career?" Lara inquired.

"I don't owe him shit but his money, which I will gladly pay him back once I'm on my feet. It's not like I'm going to be throwing his name around or using him and his connections to get myself a good job," Sam responded a bit defensively, "I'm still going to be responsible for earning good grades, building a resume, and making my own connections."

"You still have his name," Lara pointed out.

"And you have your dad's name," Sam countered, and Lara winced slightly. "Sorry, but you of all people have to realize that comparisons are going to happen no matter what. That doesn't mean that we have to be bound by other people's expectations, remember when we were discussing Pride and Prejudice? You seemed to think back then that social structures are inevitable, but I disagreed with you. Yeah, I agree that expectations and all that crap are unavoidable _at first_ , but that doesn't mean we can't break those expectations and make people see us for who we are, rather than who our families are." Lara considered her thoughtfully, "What?"

"Nothing," Lara said, "it's just that my fath- well, he's more like an uncle, really-"

"But he's like a father to you," Sam finished for her.

"I guess, yeah," Lara admitted, "anyway, point is he said something similar when I had called him yesterday about a particular issue I was having."

"Which means I'm probably right?" Sam added hopefully as they arrived at their destination and walked in together. Lara slid her hands into her pocket and raised and lowered one shoulder.

"Perhaps, but only time will tell."

They ordered their food shortly thereafter, from which point their conversation dissolved into casual banter about school, life, the party the night before, and generally normal topics of discussion for a change. When it was all said and done, they didn't even get around to leaving for the library until around twelve-thirty in the afternoon, but Lara didn't even seem to be bothered by this reality. In fact, Sam felt as though it was the most relaxed she'd seen her roommate all semester, bright and cheerful as she was when they ascended the steps to the handsome, pillared library building. The relaxed atmosphere was short-lived, however, the moment they walked inside.

"Sam!" Came a familiar voice from their right.

 _Oh no…_ Sam thought to herself, donning her best smile nonetheless and turning to greet its owner, "Hi, Alex. Wasn't expecting to see you here."

"Oh, I work here," Alex replied with a grin, coming to a stop before them and regarding Lara with a slightly too intrigued expression, "who's this? I don't believe we've had the pleasure of meeting yet." Lara and Sam exchanged a look.

" _Sorry_ ," Sam said to Lara in Japanese, " _he's this awkward guy who's friends with my friend, Molly. I'm pretty sure the only reason Molly lets him hang around us is because he hacks things and sells us weed. He's actually a bit of a dick_." Lara let out a small laugh.

" _I see, well let me try to get rid of him, then,_ " Lara responded.

"Uh...what?" Alex looked back and forth between them in confusion.

"Sorry," Lara said, speaking English once more, "Sam's helping me with my Japanese and it's personal girl stuff. I'm Lara, her roommate."

A look of familiarity flashed across Alex's face as he and Lara shook hands, and Sam glared at him from over Lara's shoulder with a look that said "don't you dare say anything." After her previous experience with Steph, she didn't need anyone to cause more drama between her and Lara.

"Nice to meet you," Alex said, blanching slightly under Sam's murderous gaze.

"Likewise," Lara scratched the back of her neck somewhat awkwardly, "normally I'd stay to chat but I'm sure you have work to do and we have to study for an exam coming up in our class."

"Nah," Alex shook his head, "there's not really a lot to do here until the end of the day when the books need to be sorted back into place. Maybe I could help you two study?"

"Hey Lara," Sam cut in rather loudly, "do you have an extra tampon?" It took all she had to not burst out into laughter at the way Alex's face flushed in that instant.

"A-Actually," Alex stammered, "I just remembered that there's some returned books I need to put back into the system. Nice meeting you, Lara!" He promptly took off without another word, leaving Lara and Sam giggling to themselves.

"Nice save," Lara commented.

"If I hadn't chased him off, that guy would have flirted with you and kept us from getting anything done. You can't tell me you didn't see that look in his eyes?" Sam asked as they began to make their way over to a table.

"Oh I did," Lara affirmed, "and thank God you chased him off. Guys like that are definitely not my type." Sam frowned.

"What _is_ your type?" Lara paused right in the middle of pulling her class materials out of her bag.

"...Good question," was all she said after a moment or two before getting her laptop and the rest of her notes out.

"Good question?" Sam raised a brow as she took a seat across from Lara.

"I never really thought about it. I went to an all girls school so it's not like there were really any guys for us to fawn over." A small, mischievous smirk began to spread across Sam's face.

"What about girls?" She teased. Lara blinked in surprise at her.

"Girls?" She repeated blankly.

"Yeah, girls," Sam reiterated, "have you ever thought about dating girls?"

"With the type of vile girls that went to my school?" Lara remarked dryly, "No."

"What about girls who aren't 'vile'?" Sam pressed further, her heart racing in excitement. Lara bit the inside of her cheek and narrowed her eyes contemplatively.

"Maybe. I don't know, like I said I've never really thought about this type of thing. Never really felt interested in the whole dating scene." Sam figured that was the best answer she was going to get, and set about reviewing the list of essay questions that may be on their exam. Question one: _Starting with this extract, how does Lady Macbeth use language to manipulate her husband in the play?_

 _ **MACBETH**_ _  
We will proceed no further in this business.  
He hath honoured me of late, and I have bought  
Golden opinions from all sorts of people,  
Which would be worn now in their newest gloss,  
Not cast aside so soon._

 _ **LADY MACBETH**_ _  
Was the hope drunk  
Wherein you dressed yourself? Hath it slept since?  
And wakes it now to look so green and pale  
At what it did so freely? From this time,  
Such I account thy love. Art thou afeard  
To be the same in thine own act and valour  
As thou art in desire? Wouldst thou have that  
Which thou esteem'st the ornament of life,  
And live a coward in thine own esteem,  
Letting I dare not wait upon I would,  
Like the poor cat i'th'adage?_

 _ **MACBETH**_ _  
Prithee, peace.  
I dare do all that may become a man;  
Who dares do more is none._

 _ **LADY MACBETH**_ _  
What beast was't then  
That made you break this enterprise to me?  
When you durst do it, then you were a man.  
And to be more than what you were, you would  
Be so much more the man. Nor time, nor place  
Did then adhere, and yet you would make both.  
They have made themselves and that their fitness now  
Does unmake you. I have given suck and know  
How tender 'tis to love the babe that milks me:  
I would, while it was smiling in my face,  
Have plucked my nipple from his boneless gums  
And dashed the brains out, had I so sworn  
As you have done to this._

 _ **MACBETH**_ _  
If we should fail?_

 _ **LADY MACBETH**_ _  
We fail?  
But screw your courage to the sticking-place,  
And we'll not fail._

 _Shit,_ Sam thought to herself. She knew that sooner or later, relying on the No Fear Shakespeare version of the play would come back to bite her in the ass. She had been too self conscious to go to the professor for help on reading Shakespeare's work; doing so felt like an admission of her own intellectual inferiority. It took all she had to not mentally berate herself for not taking the help when it was available.

"Something wrong?" Came Lara's query from across the table. Sam looked up at her bashfully.

"Yeah," she admitted, "I literally have no clue how to read this Early Modern...whatever type of bastardized version of English this is, and I was too embarrassed to go to the professor for help and now I'm probably gonna bomb this exam."

"Maybe I could help?" Lara offered. Sam grimaced.

"If it's not too much trouble?" Lara shook her head.

"Not at all," she assured her, moving herself to the seat right beside Sam, "it's this first question, then?"

"Yeah."

"Alright," Lara scrutinized the words on the page and took a moment to gather her thoughts, "okay, first of all I'd like to point out that Shakespeare has a very tricky sentence structure for the sake of rhyme and meter. For instance, he'll omit certain words and leave it to the audience to pick up on the implied meaning of the sentence. Another thing he likes to do is take nouns and adjectives and turn them into verbs, such as 'cowarded' and 'portcullised' which can obviously make things a bit confusing. For now, let's start by systematically breaking down each sentence and decoding their meaning. Let me find a good example to start with." She picked up a pen, tore a sheet of paper from her notebook, and began writing.

 _Prithee, peace: I dare do all that may become a man; Who dares do more is none._

"So," Lara began, "consider 'I dare do all that may become a man,' this is an excellent example of Shakespeare omitting and implying words in his speech. What Macbeth is essentially saying here is that he would dare to do all that is proper for a man to do. How did I get this? Well, consider first of all that there are several meanings to the word 'become.' On one hand, its most common connotation is to begin to be, or to turn into, and if you think that's the meaning of the word in this context it's very easy to be confused. Ever heard the terms 'unbecoming' or 'becoming'? What those basically mean is to be appropriate or suitable to someone or something. So when he says 'I dare do all that may become a man,' he's really saying 'I dare do all that is appropriate of a man.'"

"So basically, he's defending himself saying that he's doing all a man should and doing more doesn't make him a man?" Sam asked, looking down at the sentence Lara had wrote intently.

"Exactly," Lara nodded approvingly, "Certain words were used in different ways back in Shakespeare's time, whereas today instead of saying 'clothing like that is unbecoming of her,' we say 'those clothes don't really suit her.' That being said, the meaning of becoming and unbecoming is still engraved in the English lexicon, they just aren't used as frequently in that manner."

"So then the sentence after that…" Sam continued, looking through the essay prompt.

"Right," Lara said, scribbling the next verse on her scrap sheet of paper.

 _What beast was't then  
That made you break this enterprise to me?  
When you durst do it, then you were a man.  
And to be more than what you were, you would  
Be so much more the man. Nor time, nor place  
Did then adhere, and yet you would make both.  
They have made themselves and that their fitness now  
Does unmake you. I have given suck and know  
How tender 'tis to love the babe that milks me:  
I would, while it was smiling in my face,  
Have plucked my nipple from his boneless gums  
And dashed the brains out, had I so sworn  
As you have done to this._

"Consider for a moment what Macbeth had just said. That he has done what is appropriate of a man, and to do more would no longer make him a man." Sam's eyes widened as she began to feel as though she was understanding.

"So, the crazy bitch is taking his words and throwing them right back at him, right?" Sam looked up at Lara, "Since he said that doing more wouldn't make him a man, she's asking him if he wasn't a man, what kind of animal was he when he said he would kill the king."

"Yes, actually," Lara looked mildly astonished, "that's the start of it. You picked up on that pretty quickly." Sam's gaze drifted downward, and she pursed her lips.

"I'm not dumb, you know."

"I know that, it's just that you said you have no experience reading Shakespeare."

"I don't," Sam sighed emphatically, "sorry, it's just that a lot of people think I'm a colossal airhead."

"I don't think you're an airhead." Sam stared at Lara skeptically, "Really, I don't. I actually think you're quite brilliant, I could tell the moment you started talking about Pride and Prejudice. You have a much more sophisticated understanding of the book than most other people I've talked to about it." Sam gave a halfhearted shrug in response. "Seriously, what's wrong?"

"Don't get me wrong, I appreciate the praise you're throwing my way, I guess I just...kind of wish my dad saw that, you know? He seems to think I'm some slacker who doesn't give a shit and it kind of gets me down a lot."

"Fuck your father," Lara blurted out all of a sudden, and Sam's head snapped up in surprise, "You know what? The exam isn't for a whole week. Why don't we go out and do something today?" Sam's sullen expression slowly morphed into a soft smile.

"Yeah, I'd like that."

* * *

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